There's Something About Bulma
by AnimeToon
Summary: Bulma finds out Vegeta is cheating on her and she begins an affair with Piccolo and Gohan, and falls in love with them. But Vegeta won't let her go. And Yamcha tries to come back in the picture. And two of the four are willing to kill the others to have her to themselves. Bulma/Piccolo, Bulma/Gohan, Bulma/Vegeta, Bulma/Yamcha
1. There's Something About Bulma's Scream

**Ok, so seeing as how the summary kind of sucked, I'll explain a few things.**

**Bulma is going to have an affair with Piccolo and Gohan.**

**Yamcha will come in later.**

**Bulma is 38. Gohan is 15. Vegeta is 39. Trunks is 5. Goten is 4. **

**Krillin and 18 are married. And 18 is pregnant with Marron.**

**This is a series, so follow the story for updates.**

**Read on :) **

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"Get back here!" Bulma playfully called to Trunks as she chased him around Capsule Corp. The lavender-haired little boy looked over his shoulder with a mischievous grin and shouted, "Never!"

Bulma chuckled tiredly. She was huffing and puffing trying to keep up with her son who was barely jogging. _Gosh, I'm out of shape! _She thought.

But still, Bulma Briefs is not one to back down or admit defeat. She inhaled a long breath and bluffed, "I'm gonna get you!" Trunks laughed heartily. "Wanna bet?" Was all she heard before he jetted into their home faster than she could blink.

Bulma came to a stop just outside of their home and placed her hands on her hips, panting lightly.

She lowered her eye lids and shouted, "NO FAIR!," Stamping her foot with each word. "I'm just a beautiful, delicate genius, Trunks, not an abnormal muscle-head like you, your father, and the rest of the gang. How was I suppose to even see that?"

Some movement in the window above her caught her eye and she saw Trunks waving at her. He fogged the window with his breath and wrote something with his finger, then disappeared from view. She walked closer to the building and read the words aloud. "Come get me."

She smiled and walked inside the house and went upstairs to the second floor where she'd seen Trunks. "Oh, Truuuunks," She called out in a sing-song voice.

A thump came from down the hall in Trunks' room. Bulma tip-toed as quietly as she could to his room.

"Gotcha! Ugh," She pouted upon apparently surprising a seemingly empty room.

She walked into the room, whistling and snapping her fingers. She stopped when she reached Trunks' bed, dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. _Aw, for goodness sake, why does Trunks keep throwing his dirty clothes under his bed? _

Bulma made a mental note of that for later.

She stretched out an arm and felt throughout the pile of clothes to see if Trunks was possibly hiding underneath. Gross.

She heard Trunks' closet door creak open behind her, but before she could even raise up and turn her attention towards it, she felt a whoosh of wind. Her canary yellow dress flew up from the gust of wind. She sat up and smoothed her dress down as her eyes flickered from the now-empty-closet to the bedroom door.

She quickly got to her feet and speed-walked to door, looking out into the hall.

A sheet of paper was gently swaying in the air. "Oh, c'mon," Exclaimed Bulma as the paper landed back on the coffee table in the den.

Walking into the den, Bulma quickly looked around before continuing down the hall.

She cut around the corner, walked past the laundry room, and stopped mid-step just passed the door way.

Going back, she saw that the rug was bent over itself.

Smiling, she quietly walked to the rug and calmly straightened it. Smile still in place, she looked at the washer and dryer. _I know he's small, but he couldn't be silly enough to hide in the washer. _

So, she crept to the dryer, got down on one knee, and slowly reached for the button.

Bulma has such an appreciation for dramatics.

"Ah-ha!" She shouted after she pushed the button and the door slid open.

"Hmm?" The dryer was empty.

Just as she looked to her right at the washer, she heard the lid slide open and saw lavender hair, followed by a smiling face, and finally the rest of him as he gracefully leapt out of the washer.

"Ha-ha!," He laughed in midair.

Bulma watched as he landed on one foot, leaned forward, and blew a raspberry at her.

She put on her best offended face and placed her hands on her hips.

"Knew you'd check the dryer first," Trunks stated while shaking his index finger at his Mom.

Bulma arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you calling me," She paused as she shifted on her knees more towards his direction. She raised her hand to her chest and gestured to herself, reiterating, "Me predictable?"

Trunks held his hands up in the air. "Of course not, Mom. More like a," He waved his hands in a circular motion as he thought of a better way to put it. He was well aware that calling his mother predictable was like a 'you're grounded' death wish. "Creature of habit," He settled on and turned, exiting the laundry room at a thoughtful (thoughtful towards his mother) jog-like pace.

"Humph," Bulma expressed while shaking her head. _Creature of habit? I merely second-guessed you, _Bulma thought as she got to her feet and took off after him.

Trunks jogged down to the first floor and stopped at the foot of the stairs.

He waited for his mother to catch up and giggled when she finally reached the top of the stairs. "C'mon, Mom. You can do it! I believe in you!" He cheerfully encouraged while she panted and leaned against the wall of the stairway.

With one knee raised, he bolted in the direction of the living room.

"Oof!" Trunks slammed into an incredibly hard surface.

He fell back on the floor and rubbed the right side of his face, which took the brunt of the blow. "Oh, what did I hit?" Trunks asked aloud.

He wasn't really expecting an answer.

He must have been running faster than he intended to and ran into the living room wall.

But he did get an answer.

"Me," Came his father's voice.

He opened his eyes and saw his father standing above him with his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smirk on his face.

The slight pain in his face was easily forgotten as a huge grin took over.

"Dad, you're back!" He exclaimed as he leapt up and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, hugging him as tight as he could.

Vegeta chuckled lightly and hugged him in return with one arm.

He glanced towards the stairwell when he saw Bulma's foot, followed by her curious face.

She smiled at him before placing her index finger over her lips, silently shushing him.

Smirk still in place, he watched as she quietly snuck up on their unsuspecting-son who still had a viselike hold on his neck.

"I really missed you, Dad - Aaah!" Trunks wiggled and squirmed in Vegeta's hold as Bulma mercilessly tickled his sides.

To her surprise, Vegeta actually held Trunks firmly in place.

"Aah-ha-ha-ha, I give, Mom! I give, I give, PLEASE!" Trunks was on the verge of tears! But they just wouldn't flow down his cheeks. _Just gonna have to take it up a notch, I see._ Bulma thought as she did her best evil laugh. "Terribly sorry. I'm all out of mercy. Come to think of it, I never had any in me!" She teased in a familiar tone and began tickling Trunks under his arms.

She looked up at Vegeta to see if he caught on to her impression. Smirking, he arched an eyebrow at her. "Were you mocking me?" "Yes, and I believe I was spot on, if I do say so myself." She grinned, still mocking him. He raised both eyebrows at her then.

"Oh, c'mon," She kidded as she scooped Trunks up from Vegeta's arms. She held him against her and kissed his cheek. "Oww." Unfortunately for Trunks, it was the sore cheek. "Sorry, Munchkin." She gently rubbed his cheek and let him down.

She looked back up at Vegeta and placed her hands on her hips. "You really _don't _know the meaning of the word, so stop acting offended."

"Humph," Vegeta expressed as he crossed his arms. "Oh, I'm not offended. I'm merely... enlightened." A mischievous, almost sinister half-grin formed across his lips.

Bulma lowered her eyelids at him. _Enlightened? What is that supposed to mean?_

Bulma shrugged it off and looked down at Trunks. "As for you, there's a huge pile of dirty clothes under your bed, _again_. How do you explain that _this time?" _

Trunks chuckled nervously. "Ha-ha, uh, gee, Mom. Ahem, I, uh, I-I-," Trunks trailed off with his hand waving in a circle as if trying to find a plausible excuse for him. He glanced back up at his Mom and Dad, both arching their eyebrows at him. "Uhhh," He uttered, looking back and forth at them. "I'll get right on that, Mom," He said rosily.

He hugged his Mom's legs and smiled his biggest smile. "Ha, yeah, you do that, Champ," Bulma laughed, tussling his hair.

He started to trot upstairs, but stopped at the first step.

"I'll even put them in the laundry room," Then his smile widened and he pointed at his Mom. "For _you _to wash!" He then zipped up the stairs.

Bulma scoffed and Vegeta laughed heartily. "Well, he may not have my ruthless nature, but at least he's mischievous."

Vegeta walked up to Bulma. "I think he gets it from you," He said with his eyes wide and a surprisingly playful grin. Bulma pursed her lips. "So, you're mocking me now, huh?" He blinked twice, still holding the silly grin. She chuckled. "Hmm, I'll take that as a, "Yes, Woman"."

She turned and started up the stairs to her and Vegeta's bedroom.

She didn't notice Vegeta followed closely behind until she heard the bedroom door close behind her.

She briefly glanced at him, then turned her attention back to the dresser. She combed through her clothes, looking for something more warm to wear. She settled for an orange turtleneck sweater and a pair of faded-blue jeans.

She laid the items on the bed and went into the walk-in closet.

"Going somewhere," Asked Vegeta as she grabbed a pair of light brown boots.

She walked back into the room to see Vegeta had taken off his jacket and boots. He pulled off his black wife-beater just as Bulma set her boots near the foot of the bed.

"Yeah, I'm gonna meet 18 downtown. Help the mommy-to-be shop for the little bundle of joy," Bulma chimed, looking in the mirror atop the dresser. She ran a finger just under her eye and primped her hair.

She'd just cut it up to her earlobes a few days ago.

"I still can't wrap my head around the fact that Krillin's gonna be a dad." "Nor can I," Vegeta muttered under his breath as he leaned against the wall.

His tail slowly swayed behind him as he watched Bulma walk over to the bed.

_Finally, Woman. I've waited long enough._ Vegeta thought as he slowly walked over to her. _I do love it when she doesn't know it's coming._

He quietly unbuttoned his pants and inched the zipper down.

With her back to him, Bulma took off her sandals and necklace.

She moved the straps of the dress off her shoulders and slid the dress down to her waist.

_That'd be my cue._ Vegeta thought as he effortlessly leapt out of his pants and boxers, landing on his feet without making a sound.

His member twitched and jumped as the dress slid over her hips and hit the floor.

Bulma stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

She bent over the bed and reached for the sweater.

She then gasped loudly as she suddenly felt her breast bounce free. She looked down at herself just in time to see her panties snatched off.

"Vegeta, wait a min- VEGETA!" Bulma screamed as Vegeta pushed her on the bed onto her hands and knees, and rammed his hard flesh all the way inside her before she could protest.

"Ohhh," Vegeta moaned.

He ran a hand up Bulma's heaving back, who was still reeling from the painful, sudden intrusion.

He moaned again, gripped her hips hard, and began roughly pumping his intruding appendage into her.

Bulma yelped and whimpered with every move Vegeta made.

Her body rocked forward with each forceful thrust and Vegeta yanked her hips back to meet his thrusts.

He was being so rough, she couldn't hold herself up on her hands anymore and was knocked onto her face.

And to add to the pain, she was dry.

Bulma turned her face to the side. She looked at Vegeta, who was clearly enjoying himself, and begged, "Vegeta, please! Please, stop, you're hurting me!"

Vegeta looked her straight in the eye and laughed sadistically. "Are you asking for mercy?"

Bulma sobbed and gasped as he picked up the pace. "Uh, uh, uh, uh, please, Vegeta, PLEASE!" She cried, each thrust making her voice sound jittery.

Panting, Vegeta just grinned. "I never had any mercy in me, remember?"

He laughed and did a couple of extra hard thrusts; Bulma shrieked with both.

"I don't even know the meaning of the damn word!"

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. Now she understood that smile and what he meant earlier.

"Ve-Vegeta, I'm dry and you're being too rough, please!"

Tears that she'd been holding back finally fell across the bridge of her nose onto the sheets. Vegeta saw the tears and stopped.

A huge sigh of relief, followed by panting escaped Bulma.

He slapped Bulma's ass, making her gasp, and pulled out of her.

"Alright, fine, I'll get you wet before I continue."

He flipped her over onto her back and pushed her further up the bed.

He spread her legs and Bulma moaned as Vegeta ate her out. He licked at her clitoris and swirled his tongue around it. He flickered his tongue against it a few more times before moving to her opening. He lapped at her entrance but sticking his seven inch tongue inside her.

"Ohh, Vegeta," She moaned as she arched her back.

Vegeta then began darting his tongue in and out, tongue-fucking her.

"Ooh! Uhh, oooh, Vegeta!"

He looked up when he felt her hand in his hair. She was turning her head from side to side. _I think she's wet enough now._

He pulled his tongue out and dragged it across her opening and clitoris.

He then climbed up her body and shoved his member into her.

She yelled and gripped the sheets.

Vegeta groaned and started moving within her.

He leaned down and kissed Bulma. She hesitantly pressed her lips against his when he growled into the kiss.

His tongue forced its way through her lips and possessively licked around her mouth before battling with her tongue. His tongue forced hers into submission, of course.

He broke the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He raised up to his knees, bringing her body with him, and began pounding into her.

Tossing her head on the bed and pulling at the sheets, Bulma whimpered and panted. Vegeta was heavily panting himself.

He was close. Very close.

While one arm had a firm grip around her waist, his other reached up her stomach.

He grabbed both her breasts before growling and letting her body go.

"Ugh!" Bulma exclaimed as she dropped to the bed.

Vegeta rested a hand on Bulma's knee, his other stroked his shaft, and he groaned as he shot hot streams of cum on her stomach and flower (the term Bulma used to refer to her sex).

He rested on her, breathing harshly in her ear.

Bulma was breathing hard, too.

But she was so relieved he was finally through. _I hate it when this asshole does this to me! I know he's a Saiyan and all; but, why does he get a kick out of it when he's hurting me?_

A kiss to her cheek snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I love the way you scream." Vegeta complimented as he raised himself up to his hands and looked at her. A lazy grin and a sated look marked his features.

Bulma swallowed and frowned. "So, you love my scream more than my moan?"

Vegeta knew what she was getting at and rolled his eyes. "I love them both," He said.

He kissed her, rolled off her and the bed, and headed into the bathroom.

She heard the shower turn on and closed her eyes, sighing.

She rolled onto her side and groaned.

Her flower and legs were aching!

"Oh, just great," She said aloud. "If I'm too sore to roll over, how in the hell am I gonna go shopping with 18?"

She sighed again.

Using the sheets, she pulled herself up to the nightstand and grabbed the phone.

She was just going to have to ask 18 if they could go shopping tomorrow.

Now, she just needed to think of an excuse. _I'm certainly not gonna tell her the real reason._

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**As I mentioned above, this is a series, so chapter two will be up soon.**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**If you follow me on twitter, I'll tweet when I'm working on it and when I'll update it. Or, if I'm taking too long, you can tweet me and tell me to hurry up.**

**The link is on my profile. :)**


	2. There's Something About Bulma's Tears

_Oh, my aching legs! In hindsight, I really should've asked 18 to give me a couple of days. _Bulma mentally whined while trying to keep up with 18.

"Sheesh, Bulma, I'm seven months pregnant and I'm not even walking that fast. Why are you lagging?"

Bulma tottered to 18's side and grabbed her arm, bringing 18 to a stop. "Why are _you _walking so fast?"

18 simply grinned. She found it amusing that after forty-five minutes of walking around, Bulma was already exhausted.

"Just slow it down, will ya? I'm having a major case of jell-o legs," Bulma huffed.

18's grin turned into a knowing smile. "Ah, so that's why you're tired and why you cancelled on me yesterday. I'm guessing Vegeta had a _rough landing_ in your _cockpit?" _18 joked sarcastically and placed her hair behind her left ear.

Bulma's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.

18 laughed. "He did some _serious rummaging _in your _love-box?" _

Bulma's cheeks flushed at that one and she stepped back a little from 18, crossing her arms and stuttering. "Uh-uh, n- no, no, uh, um. Uh, ahem, we- well, it's, uh, none of your business!"

18 threw her head back and laughed harder. "Ok, how about this? He _crushed your flower? _Is that the ball park?"

Bulma threw her arms down at her sides and balled her fists. _"18! Quit it already!" _

Bulma quickly scanned around to make sure no one heard 18's crude remarks.

18 smirked, laced her arm with Bulma's, and started walking at a slow pace. "Well, am I right or not?"

Bulma sighed resignedly. "Yes, you're right. He just came back yesterday. He'd been gone a little over two weeks. I was in the middle of getting ready to meet you. One minute, I'm changing clothes, the next second, I'm stripped nude and being hammered."

"Ha-ha! Wow," 18 exclaimed as she came to a stop and eyed a rack with baby socks. "Oh! Aren't these princess socks just precious? I have to get these now." She grabbed a pair and browsed for more princess-themed socks.

Bulma was actually grateful that 18 got sidetracked from their conversation.

However, she was annoyed with 18 wanting to buy everything she saw.

"18, seriously and for the last time, we're supposed to pick out things you want for the registry so the guests attending the baby shower can buy them. You aren't supposed to be buying _anything!" _"But, Bulma -" "But nothing!" _Kami! Feels like I'm talking to Trunks! _

18 glanced between Bulma, the socks in her hands, and the cart she'd been pushing that was halfway full.

"Alright, alright, alright! I'll put most of it back and we can just put it on the registry. But some of these only had a few in stock; I have to buy those. Deal?"

She offered Bulma the clipboard and pen from the cart with a hopeful smile. Bulma groaned and took them, begrudgingly agreeing with a nod.

"Call off the ones for the registry," She said with a stern expression.

18 cleared her throat before sounding off. "Travel System Stroller, Pretty Princess Crib N Changer - Orange, Pretty Princess Hamper - Orange, Pretty Princess Rocking Cradle - White, Little Angel Vibrating Tub, Little Angel Newborn gift set, Little Angel Newborn Diapers, Pretty Princess and Little Angel bibs and burp cloths. Lots of bodysuits, one-pieces, baby gowns, and socks. Matching sets, Pretty Princess or Little Angel brand. I'll be buying everything else."

Once she'd written everything down, she glanced at the cart.

Thankfully, that only left nine things 18 was going to buy.

"Finally! Now, put everything else back and go buy the _nine things _you just have to have today. I'll be trying out these rocking chairs," Bulma grumbled and sat down in one of the display chairs. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, absolutely loving the rocking motions. _Oh, yeah, just what I need! I might have to come back and buy this. _She thought contentedly.

"Oh, Bulma, do me a favor, will ya? When you get home, remind Vegeta of the time I kicked his ass."

Bulma frowned and looked at 18. "Why?"

"Cause I know it'll piss him off," She said with a sly smile. "And seeing as how I can't inflict an ass-kicking of that caliber again, Vegeta becoming infuriated at the memory of it will have to do. I need some payback."

She turned the cart and headed down the aisle.

But before she got too far, Bulma called out, "Payback for?"

With 18's back to her, she couldn't see the right side of 18's mouth twist into a grin. "For ruining our shopping spree by wrecking you and turning you into a jell-o-legged sourpuss."

Bulma gripped the armrests and fumed as 18 disappeared around the end of the aisle. "Oh, whatever! Just make sure you come back with only _nine _things in that cart," She shouted at 18, not caring if anyone else heard her.

She rolled her eyes before closing them again and got more comfortable in the chair. "Yeah, like you'd be all peppy if _you_ got "wrecked". Please, you don't even know what getting wrecked is. You're married to Krillin, for Kami's sake! Short as Krillin is, I'm surprised little Krillin could even reach high enough to plant a seed! I mean, no offense to Krillin, or anything," Bulma muttered sarcastically.

She opened her eyes, then stopped rocking the chair.

She found herself staring at an audience she wasn't even aware were present.

Two women, one pregnant and the other, either the pregnant woman's mother or grandmother, stood side by side just inches from Bulma.

She exchanged a few blinks with the women before speaking. "Uh, sooo, been there long?" She tried awkwardly.

The women collectively uttered umm and continued to stare at Bulma like she was an oddball.

Frankly, Bulma had enough of the gawking.

Her brows furrowed and she leaned forward. "Move it along! I'm not part of the display; I'm just sitting in it!"

The women stepped back, as if threatened, and the older woman stuck her nose in the air. "Why, I never!"

They moved back further and started to hurry away as Bulma jumped to her feet.

"Well, _I _have never seen anyone stare rudely at someone berating their friend under their breath to themselves!" She yelled at the retreating women while shaking her fist.

She sat back down and crossed her arms and legs. "Ugh, can't people talk angrily to themselves anymore without being stared at like a circus freak?!"

* * *

Bulma entered the lobby, made a beeline for the living room, and plopped face-first on the couch. She stretched and let her left arm fall off the couch onto the carpet.

If she never went shopping with 18 again, it'd be too soon.

Well, not necessarily. Bulma does love to shop. Just not after sex with Vegeta.

She sighed deeply and reached for the remote on the coffee table. She flipped through the channels blankly before settling for ZTV when a familiar face caught her eye. Unfortunately, that familiar face belonged to egomaniac Hercule Satan.

Bulma rested her face in the palm of her hand, curious to see what the oaf was boasting about now.

**"So, Mr. Satan, care to tell us about your new gym," **Asked peculiarly hyper Jimmy Firecracker.

The tanned, taller man reached down and took the mic right out of the reporter's hand. **"This gym is gonna run all the others outta business! This fine establishment has no competition 'cause it's the best in world! And I'll tell ya why it's the best. It's the best 'cause it was founded by none other than the great Hercule Satan, baby! Here at Satan's Fitness Supreme, employees train you using the exact regimen yours truly practices. And to sweeten the deal even more, for just five hundred dollars more a month, **_**you**_** just might take part in a class with **_**me **_**as the instructor during surprise appearances!" **A greedy smile formed across his lips, making the mustache framing his mouth form an M.

_That greedy coward! Kami, I feel sorry for the poor idiots that'll actually pay that much for a 'surprise appearance' that'll more than likely never happen. _

Hercule tossed the mic to Jimmy, who practically juggled it a few times before getting a grip on it.

Jimmy briefly looked embarrassed, but regained his composure.

**"You heard it from the champion yourselves, folks! Satan's Fitness Supreme is located in wonderful Satan City. The doors are now open and taking memberships! Why, I might even join," **The suck-up reporter chirped.

His 'hero' laughed raucously. **"Yeah, little man, you should! You are kinda wimpy!" **

Hercule continued laughing while his ever-loyal suck-up pulled at his collar, looking embarrassed and maybe even a little wounded. **"Heh, ahem, yes, well, you heard it here, folks! For ZTV, I'm Jimmy Firecracker." **

Bulma shook her head. "Poor guy. And I bet he still thinks that jackass Hercule can do no wrong."

Bulma was about to get up when she noticed something brown sliding over her back.

She screamed when it wrapped around her waist.

She tried to scramble off the couch, but it lifted her up in the air.

She flailed. "AAH! TRUNKS! VEGETA! VEGEta," She stopped screaming mid-Vegeta's name and frowned upon seeing Vegeta's smiling face.

Her frown turned into a scowl as Vegeta's tail pulled her against his body.

He was chuckling lowly.

"Hilarious, asshole, hilarious," She said in a flat tone.

Vegeta guffawed. "What did you think it was?"

"I didn't know _what _it was, ok! Having muscle-heads for friends, I've seen all kinds of creatures!"

She looked him up and down when her nose picked up a familiar smell. She leaned a little closer to his face and inhaled.

Vegeta stole a quick kiss. "Smell something you like," He asked in a low, husky voice.

It made Bulma's womanhood tingle. "Yeah, you're in heat."

She recognized the deliciously fruity smell he always gave off during his heats.

"Mmm-hmm," He vocalized, his tail letting her down.

That's when she noticed two DynoCaps in one hand and a bag in the other.

She looked up at Vegeta with sad eyes. "You're leaving again? Already? You just came back yesterday!"

Vegeta's smile faded. He could hear the sadness in her voice and see it in her eyes.

He looked away, trying to avoid it, and threw the DynoCaps in his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and still tried his best not to make eye-contact with her watery blue orbs.

"I'll only be gone a day. Two at the most."

Bulma licked her lips as her mouth suddenly became dry and wiped away a tear that had escaped. "B-but, I-I mean, well, where are you going?"

"Since when do you ask where I am going," Vegeta asked, finally looking her in the eye. He regretted it as soon as he did and looked away again as another tear fell down her cheek.

Bulma sniffled and wiped it away.

"Dragon Rock," He said quickly. "I'm going to Dragon Rock. Toy with a couple of monsters; if I don't kill 'em with a simple tap, that is."

He didn't want Bulma to think he'd meant that she couldn't ask about his whereabouts. She could ask. It's just that she never had asked before. He'd honestly hate it if she started keeping tabs on him now.

Bulma turned away from him and rubbed her arms, as if trying to console herself.

Vegeta walked up to her, ran his thumb along her ear and whispered in it, "I promise I'll be back in a day or two. And I won't leave for a while once I get back."

He kissed her cheek, but he really wanted a kiss back.

Since she wouldn't turn in his direction, he reached around and kissed her for a few seconds before pulling away.

He petted her hair then took off through the open patio doors.

The tears that she did manage to hold back began to fall freely.

She sat on the couch and sobbed quietly.

And eventually, cried herself to sleep.

* * *

"AAAH!" Bulma screamed out as a **BOOM **shook the entire building, the vibrations making her body bounce in the air.

She got to her feet and franticly turned her head from side to side.

She was disoriented, had a slight headache, and her eyes were irritated from crying herself to sleep. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve then cried out and steadied herself using the coffee table as another **BOOM **racked the building.

Bulma then heard a loud crash come from the Atrium.

She ran into the Atrium and up to the Sparring Arena.

She saw Trunks laying on the Arena floor, groaning and rubbing his head.

"Trunks?" She made her way over to him, then saw Goten to her left out of the corner of her eye.

He was buried in the ground from his head up to his torso and his legs were sticking up, one of them twitching.

She couldn't help but chuckle as she helped Trunks stand up. "Boys, haven't I told you more than once, no sparring inside."

Trunks shook his head to get over the pain it was feeling and looked up at his mother. "Well, this is the Sparring Arena, Mom," He pointed out. "Ha-ha-ha, yeah, for _normal _fighters. This building and I can't handle your freakazoid strength. Why don't you, uh, help Goten outta the ground, hmm?"

Trunks jogged over to Goten.

He grabbed the twitching leg and pulled him out of the ground, then dropped him on his back. "Oww! Hey!" He exclaimed as he jumped up and got in Trunks' face.

"Stop being such a crybaby," Trunks taunted with his trademark mischievous grin.

"Shut up," Goten angrily shouted as he pushed Trunks.

They began pushing each other back and forth.

Bulma crossed her arms and giggled as she watched them bicker.

But her view was suddenly obstructed by a very large figure, causing her to gasp and jump back.

After a second, her mind registered the figure, and her startlement was replaced by embarrassment.

Looking down, her cheeks tinged pink.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Came Piccolo's deep voice.

She reluctantly looked up at him (she didn't want to because she was blushing) and smiled nervously. "Oh, uh, no, it's fine! Umm, how long have you been here?" She asked fidgeting with her hair and the collar of her sweater.

Piccolo had to keep himself from raising an eyebrow at her mannerisms. "Not long. Trunks and Goten wanted me to train them."

She nodded and tried to keep her eyes off him in order to stop blushing.

However, they kept jetting back to him (probably because he was still looking at her); so, she decided to stare at Trunks and Goten.

She forced a laugh as Goten struggled to get out of Trunks' chokehold.

Piccolo couldn't help but smirk.

He decided to play along and also looked in Trunks and Goten's direction.

It was obvious she was antsy because of him. But he couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or if he made her nervous.

Meanwhile, a struggling Goten turned the tables on Trunks and got the upper hand, literally, by jacking Trunks up by his shirt and flung him towards Bulma and Piccolo.

"Yah!" Trunks yelled, flailing his arms and legs, and landed hard near Piccolo and Bulma's feet. "Ohhh," Trunks mumbled hovering into the air and rubbing his cheek.

His eyes flickered to Piccolo and he pointed at him. "Piccolo was the one shaking the building, Mom! He's the one with the freakazoid strength!"

Piccolo shot him a death glare and telepathically threatened, _**Good thing your mother's already here. I'll have you crying for her. **_

Trunks backed up and stood behind his mother's legs. "C'mon, Piccolo, I'm just kidding! Tell him I'm kidding, Mom. Mom, are you ok?" He asked once he looked up at her.

Her eyes were a little red and puffy.

"Y-yeah, of course, sweetheart! I'm fine."

Goten came jogging up to them. He tilted his head innocently and asked, "Have you been crying?"

Bulma forced another laugh and rubbed both their heads. "What? Guys, no, really. They're probably just a little red from me waking up to a moving building."

She came up with the best reasonable lie she could think of.

She didn't want Trunks to know there was anything wrong.

But Piccolo knew.

Unlike Trunks and Goten, he could smell and see the saline streaks that stained her cheeks.

And also, which he didn't care to admit to Bulma when she asked, he'd already been here when she came back home.

With his Namekian ears, he was able to hear the whole conversation between Bulma and Vegeta.

He was also able to hear Bulma crying.

And to his surprise, it actually bothered him.

So much so that he was tempted numerous times to go comfort her somehow.

The only thing that kept him from doing so each time was that he wasn't sure how she'd react to him.

That and the boys. They were very persistent today and pretty much stayed glued to him.

When she finally cried herself to sleep, Piccolo felt a huge sense of relief. At least she wasn't crying anymore.

Bulma looked up and saw him staring at her; studying her.

While his gaze stayed fixed on her, hers shifted to Goten as the little boy tugged her hand. "My mom wanted to know if you're still coming to our house Friday."

Bulma furrowed her brows in confusion. "Coming to- oh!" She groaned as the confusion cleared up and dread set in.

She was supposed to go to their house so she and Chi Chi could make the final preparations for 18's baby shower.

It's been a nightmarish hell planning the baby shower with Chi Chi.

Even though this was the last thing they had to do for the baby shower, she still wasn't looking forward to it.

Goten had that silly, innocent grin plastered on his face, oblivious to the telltale signs that Bulma wanted nothing to do with his mother.

She shook her head. _He's the spitting image of Goku and even though he's never met him, he acts exactly like him, too, _She thought.

"Yeah, I'm still coming. As long as you pick me up," She laughed but was very serious.

It would take hours if she flew there in a Capsule Corp. plane.

"Well, that's why she wanted me to ask. Gohan's gonna pick you up and I needed to know whether or not to tell him to still come get you."

"Oh, well, yeah, tell him to show up any time after eight a.m. Now, why don't you two go watch TV like normal kids and I'll make you some dinner."

"M'kay!" "Alright!" They both agreed simultaneously and ran out of the Atrium.

She turned her attention back to Piccolo. "Would you like to join us?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I don't eat. I only need water. But if I'm not mistaken, you already knew that."

Bulma gave a small smile and played with the hem of her sweater. "Yeah, I did. I just- well-" She trailed off and looked him in the eye.

He didn't have his usual stony and disinterested look.

He looked like he was patiently waiting to hear what she had to say.

Like he wanted to know why she wanted him to stay.

"You're always training the boys, so I'm used to having you around, you know. And it's, uh, it's been a rough day for me. And I'd just really like some company other than two little demi-saiyans with ADD. Plus, I _kinda _want you to watch them. I honestly just wanna crash for the night after dinner," She confessed and clapped her hands together.

Her tired blue eyes watched Piccolo's mouth twist into a smirk. "So, you really want me to babysit them?"

"If you don't want to, I understand-"

"I'll stay," He said, still smirking.

Bulma blinked, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'll stay."

Bulma smiled wide and almost hugged him, but caught herself before she did. "Thanks, Piccolo. I really appreciate it."

She turned and started out of the Atrium.

Piccolo followed and went into the living room with Trunks and Goten while Bulma went into the kitchen.

They paused the video game they were playing and looked at him. "Are you staying here tonight, Piccolo?" Trunks asked.

Piccolo sat on the floor, crossing his legs and arms. "Yes, but do me a favor and act as if I'm not here." He closed his eyes and tried meditating.

"Cool," Exclaimed Goten before they resumed playing the game.

Off in his thoughts, Piccolo wondered why he agreed to stay. _Why did I say yes? She gave me the opportunity to say no. So, why didn't I take it? Why did she even want me to stay? She could've easily asked one of the others to stay the night with her. The pregnant android definitely would have come. So, why did she specifically want ME to stay? She said she was used to having me around. Does that mean she LIKES having me around? And why, WHY did it bother me when she was crying earlier? _

Piccolo growled and tried to shake away his thoughts; but, he couldn't. _What the hell is going on here? _

* * *

**Review, favorite, or follow :)**

**Chapter three will be up soon! Test**


	3. There's Something About Bulma's Heart

**Ok, a big thank you to everyone that's reviewed so far!**

**Crystal Throne, sorry I took so long to update. I'll try to be quicker from now on :) **

**I have a major problem with writers block!**

**Vegetaukealldai, Vegeta won't be killing himself over Bulma, LOL! This story isn't meant to be focused on Bulma being special. That's not my intention at all. It's four guys wanting her to themselves, i.e. the title. Give it a chance :p**

* * *

Aqua blue and pearl white satin sheets twisted as Bulma rolled over onto her back.

She extended her extremities and stretched, popping a couple of joints. _Thank goodness my legs aren't sore anymore. _

She yawned and paused, her arms still in the air.

She opened her eyes and didn't bother shifting them from the ceiling. _Do I even dare?_

She let her right arm fall to the bed and sure enough, nothing stopped her hand from making contact with the bed. Her left hand followed suit, dropping onto her stomach, and she slowly turned to look at the vacant space.

Her lips compressed and her jaw locked as sadness, frustration, and anger rushed through every fiber of her being.

Maybe she wouldn't be so mad if Vegeta hadn't said he'd be back in two days.

However, two days was up two days ago.

Still, it wasn't as if she expected him to come back when he said he would. He never did.

Bulma didn't know how much longer she could do this.

**Correction - she couldn't do this anymore. **

It was practically killing her emotionally. Killing her from the inside out. Killing her heart.

She found herself wondering if being heartbroken for so long could actually induce a heart attack.

Loving Vegeta wholeheartedly was crushing her heart.

There was no more room for considering the fact that Vegeta was a Saiyan.

There was no more room for the fact that Saiyans didn't have notions of chivalry.

There was no more room for the fact that Saiyans didn't have notions of feelings, attachments, relationships in general.

The notion of love, love for a family member, love for a friend, love for a lover, was indeed lost on them.

In fact, blood ties meant nothing to them.

Friend? Friendship? A term they'd never use even to describe a fellow Saiyan combatant that fought beside them on the frontline of a battlefield.

A fellow Saiyan combatant whom they trusted their life to, whether they were aware it was trust or not, was never for a second thought of as a friend.

And lover? Simply equated to mate back on planet Vegeta.

Even if they had a mate, it was still okay for them to have sex with others.

It was perfectly normal amongst the men and women.

As long as they didn't have a child with someone other than their mate, it was okay, as Vegeta said.

The only urges and needs a Saiyan had was for battle, pleasure, and advancement in every aspect of their one-note existence.

But planet Vegeta is gone. His home is Earth now.

And being the only living full-blooded Saiyan on Earth, Vegeta's now surrounded by earthlings.

And the earthlings way of life **is nothing **like the Saiyans way of life.

It's time Vegeta conformed to Earth's customs.

It's time Vegeta **finally changed! **

He'd changed drastically after the Cell Games.

It gave Bulma hope that they would have a real relationship, a real family, if she just waited long enough.

But five years was more than long enough for Vegeta to adjust and come around. And it still wasn't happening!

Kami, her relationship with Yamcha seemed more stable, more real than this so-called relationship with Vegeta.

Well, she had to admit there were times when Yamcha would disappear for a while, too.

But, at least when he came back, he'd be there with her for a while.

And when they were together (and not arguing), he was a good boyfriend.

They did all the things that couples that are in love do.

Not to mention, sex with Yamcha was always good.

He was capable of rough, fast, intense sex. And he was capable of gentle, slow or tempo, passionate lovemaking.

Why, Yamcha was even romantic sometimes.

Bulma closed her eyes and smiled, lost in reminiscence. _Being with Yamcha in bed, you'd never know he used to be terrified of girls. _She thought, remembering how petrified he was of her when they first met.

Unfortunately for Bulma, Yamcha got over his fear of girls.

In fact, his fear was replaced by comfort and confidence.

Yep, he became quite the womanizing lothario and cheated on Bulma constantly.

That's why they had an on and off relationship throughout the years.

Why they broke up for the final time six years ago.

A sigh escaped her as she thought, _Well, at least I can say Vegeta doesn't cheat on me. _

After a minute or so, Bulma's eyes snapped open. "Wait a minute," She said aloud. "How _can_ I say that? How can I _know_ that? _He's gone all the time._ He even _goes into heat_ like animals-" She gasped loudly, snatched the sheets back, and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Her breathing was shallow as her eyes found the morning sun shining in on her and she frowned.

It was as if the cascading light pouring in through the large windows was the sun's way of trying to help Bulma realize something.

As if the bright rays were trying to force a revelation upon her; and, it made her heart skip a beat.

Her shallow breathing became sharp as she shook her head and grabbed the edge of the bed. "No, no, no, no! Vegeta doesn't cheat on me, _does_ he?"

Still shaking her head, she just happened to look at the clock and saw it was 7:56 a.m.

Gasping, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. "Oh no, oh no, oh no! Gohan's gonna be here any minute!" She squealed, assortments of grooming products being tossed around the bathroom as she scrambled to get ready.

She slammed the bathroom door shut and turned on the shower.

She looked in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, then stopped and stared at herself.

She looked tired, disheveled, frantic, even sad.

Who is this woman? Surely this reflection is not hers.

She squinted her eyes and slowly ran her hands down her slender neck.

Her fingertips found the straps of her pink, lace nightgown and slowly tugged it down her body.

It was as if she was stripping for herself.

And she was loving every second of it.

She had to remind herself who she was.

She was Bulma Briefs: beautiful, sexy, special, one-of-a-kind.

Not just a delicate beauty; but, a brilliant scientist to boot. _A rare catch, indeed, _She thought vainly.

So, she eased the nightgown down, taking her time, until it hit the floor on its own.

After all, Bulma Briefs is on no man's time.

She ran a hand up the back of her neck. "Gohan will just have to wait," She mused as the mirror finally fogged over and she stepped in the shower.

* * *

Gusts of wind flew past Gohan's face and through his hair as he neared Capsule Corp.

With his arms extended at his sides, he spun a few times like an airplane.

Gohan always loved flying. It made him feel reposed. It was his way of meditating.

He especially loved flying around on the Nimbus; for hours at a time.

He would've rode the Nimbus here if its speed were as fast as his own.

He leveled his body as the yellow dome-shaped building and the large Capsule letters painted above the entrance came into view.

He landed at the entrance and rang the doorbell.

He stood there for a few seconds and looked up at the sky, but nobody came.

He hovered to the window and saw that the receptionist wasn't in the lobby.

_Well, it is Friday. They usually don't have employees here on the weekends. _Gohan thought as he scratched his head and looked up the building. "Hmm, I'm sure Goten said eight. I guess Bulma is still asleep," He shrugged and levitated to the second story windows.

He circled them until he reached Bulma's bedroom window.

As if looking through binoculars, he placed his hands and face against the window.

His brows furrowed upon seeing the extremely large round bed was empty.

His eyes quickly scanned the bedroom. _If she was down stairs, she woulda heard the doorbell. So, she has to be up here. _He thought, now baffled.

Just then, the bathroom door opened and his eyes darted towards it.

In the doorway stood Bulma with a decent sized towel wrapped around her body.

She didn't seem to notice the demi-saiyan and turned facing the bathroom counter.

Gohan's breath hitched when Bulma grabbed a towel, bent over, and began drying her hair.

The not-so-long towel she sported had risen up, exposing Bulma's backside to the enthralled teenager.

Gohan's tail flickered as he unintentionally descended a little bit to try and get a look between Bulma's legs.

But before he could, Bulma stood up and came into the bedroom.

She still didn't see Gohan because he'd moved to the side of the window and flattened his back against the building before she even came out of the bathroom.

His tail had wrapped around his right leg; and, his mouth and eyes were wide open as he hyperventilated. _Okaaay... Close call! Maybe... Maybe her almost catching me is a sign I should... just... wait down on the ground... Or.. Something. _Gohan thought, his breathing now returning to normal.

"Whew," He exclaimed as he hovered away from the building.

But, he couldn't resist turning his head and once he did, his mouth slowly opened until his jaw dropped.

Bulma's back was to him; and, the towel was gone. Completely naked. If she were to turn around, he'd see everything.

His tail untwined from his leg and resumed its flickering motion as he took in the wonderful sight.

Gohan licked his lips, another unintentional gesture, and his eyes traced every inch of her creamy, pale skin.

She was slightly bent over the bed, trying to choose between a pink shirt and a purple shirt. "Whoa..."

"Hey, Gohan!"

"GAH! I WASN'T- I WAS JUST- UH-" He stammered, his arms springing up like he was shielding himself from something and his knees raised up like he was ready to bolt if need be.

His eyes focused on the person that called his name and he relaxed a little once he saw that it was Trunks.

The lavender-haired little boy was waving and beaming at him.

Gohan let out a nervous giggle and shakily waved back.

Through his peripheral vision, Gohan could see that Bulma hadn't heard his outburst and was now in the process of putting on her underwear. _Thank you, Dr. Briefs, for installing really thick windows._

The teen could feel his face flushing.

Boy, he was really worried he'd been caught red-handed peeping in on Bulma.

Well, he had been caught.

But fortunately and luckily for Gohan, the five-year-old demi-saiyan had no idea he'd even caught Gohan doing anything.

Still, as Gohan landed next to Trunks, he couldn't help feeling abashed. _Kami, Trunks just caught me watching his Mom walk around naked and he doesn't even know it. _Gohan thought as he dropped his head and took a deep breath.

"You ok, Gohan? You seem a little... I dunno... Bugged out," Trunks noted, tapping his bottom lip with his index finger.

"Ah-ha, um, uh, no! You, uh, ha! You just, um, surprised me." Gohan tried to laugh it off. But a glance at Trunks, who now had his arms crossed, clearly showed the boy wasn't buying it.

Just as Gohan was about to elaborate a little further, and much to his surprise, Piccolo came walking up to them. And Goten was sitting on his shoulders, holding onto his pointed ears.

Gohan's overwrought faded away upon seeing his mentor.

He looked up at Piccolo with immeasurable respect and familiar irony.

Seeing Goten perched on Piccolo's shoulders reminded Gohan of himself when he was Goten's age.

It reminded him of the six months when Piccolo left him in the wilderness to learn to survive and fend for himself.

It reminded him of the next six months of grueling training and preparing for the arrival of the Saiyans, Vegeta and his lackey, Nappa.

More specifically, it reminded him of the night he and Piccolo were sitting by the fire and he referred to Piccolo as his big, green uncle.

Well, he certainly fit the image of their big, green uncle now.

The towering Namekian stopped in front of the teen. "Gohan," He greeted firmly. "Piccolo," Gohan returned warmly and his mouth began to twist as he tried to hold in his laughter.

Gohan knew better than anybody that Piccolo was not big on affection of any kind.

He also knew that Piccolo, being solitary, believed in personal space. A concept almost alien to Goten and Trunks.

A chuckle escaped Gohan's lips; but, his full-on laughter was halted by Piccolo's deep, admonishing voice. "Laugh and you'll regret it." Piccolo tried to speak calmly, but Gohan could hear the agitation in his voice.

The teen sighed and looked at Goten and Trunks, who were both snickering. He looked back at Piccolo. "How come they get to laugh?" He asked in a whiney voice.

Piccolo crossed his arms and his mouth turned up. "They don't. They just _choose _to laugh. Just like they _choose _to act as though there won't be any repercussions. Even though they _know _there _will be."_ He squinted his eyes at Trunks, effectively shutting him up, which in turn silenced Goten.

"Besides," He said, returning his gaze to Gohan, "What are you whining for? I recall breaking that habit years ago."

"Oh, it's broken alright. I just think it's unfair how easy you are on them and how much you let them get away with, is all." He hoped he was pouting.

He was having fun being playful with Piccolo. It was something he rarely got to do.

Piccolo smirked. "It was different before these two came along. Constantly having to train to defend the Earth. There was no time for fun and games. But now that there's peace and since my merging with Kami, I suppose it's easier to let a few things slide. Sometimes."

As the door to the second story balcony slid open, they all turned their attention towards it and saw Bulma step out. "Hey guys, I'll be down in a sec!" She shouted, waving at them before going back inside.

Piccolo turned back towards Gohan, but instead found himself looking at Goten.

The little boy had bent his head over Piccolo's until his nose was leveled with the Namekian's, his eyes looking up at Piccolo's and Piccolo's eyes looking down into his. "Are you still gonna teach us Masenko like you promised?"

Piccolo's eyebrows rose and he groaned. "I never promised. I said I would and I will. How long do you intend to ride on my shoulders?"

A goofy smile appeared on the boy's face. "Aw, c'mon! You don't mind, do ya, Piccolo? You're so tall, it's fun up here!"

Piccolo rolled his eyes. "Well, can you at least let go of my ears?"

"If I let go of your ears, what am I gonna hold on to when we're flying?"

Piccolo growled, unfolded his arms, and clenched his fists, making his muscles bulge. "You're gonna stay on that long?! Oh, forget it! Let's go, Trunks," He ordered before looking at the oldest demi-saiyan. "Gohan." He nodded and took off into the sky, Trunks matching his speed and Goten holding on for dear life.

"Bye!" The two little boys shouted.

"See ya later!" He shouted back before they were too far out of range.

He looked to his right when he heard a door open and saw Bulma walking up to him. "Well, where'd they take off to?" She asked as she got a better grip on the bag she was carrying.

Gohan chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Gee, they really didn't say, ha-ha!" His bashfulness returned and he could feel his face blushing again as he remembered seeing Bulma... exposed earlier.

Bulma frowned. "Something the matter, Gohan? You're as red as a cherry," She pointed out.

He held up the hand that wasn't making an indentation in the back of his head, due to the fact that he was still scratching it. "I'm fine, just a little warm, I guess. So, I see you went with the-" With wide eyes, he cut that sentence short and saved himself from making a huge blunder.

"Went with what?" Bulma asked.

Well, Gohan noticed that she went with the purple shirt.

If he'd actually said that, he basically would've admitted to Bulma that he'd watched her walking around in just a towel and later, without a towel.

"Duh, I see you went with... a bag that doesn't say Capsule Corp. today. That's a first!" He smiled as he fibbed.

Bulma grinned and shrugged. "Hey, a girl's gotta accessorize; switch it up. C'mon, let's get going."

She placed the strap of the bag around her neck and left arm so it hung securely as she walked up to Gohan.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection and looked up at the sky, smiling. "It's been awhile since anyone's flown me around."

Gohan slightly tilted his head and asked, "Can't you ask Vegeta to fly you around?"

Bulma's eyes rolled from the sky to Gohan's eyes and her smile faded. "No... C'mon, let's go. You know how your mother gets when you keep her waiting." Her mouth tweaked upward into a half-smile.

But Gohan could tell it was a sad smile.

He wanted to ask if anything was wrong; but, he decided not to press the issue, as it was clear she didn't want to talk about it.

He half-smiled too as he wrapped his left arm around her back and got a solid grip on her waist.

"Whoooooa!" Bulma exclaimed as Gohan shot up into the sky.

He looked at her, finding it amusing how her hair was flying around and how her eyes were squinting from the surging wind.

She quickly gave up trying to fight the wind and pressed her face against Gohan's chest.

The teen looked forward and found himself blushing again.

* * *

"I'm thinking bright orange and loud pink drapery and tablecloths, you know, really make the room pop!"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I rented the ballroom at West City Hotel 'cause we've got close to a hundred and ten ladies coming."

"Mmm-hmm."

"I'm thinking only finger foods and maybe Sencha tea - or maybe Gyokuro tea. Which do you we should serve, Bulma?"

"Mmm-hmm." Bulma mumbled for the third time absentmindedly, not listening to anything Chi Chi said.

"Bulma! Helllooo?!" She waved her hands in Bulma's face, trying to get her attention.

After a minute or so, her eyes finally focused on the motioning in front of her face; and, she blinked a few times and shook her head. "Huh? Oh, yeah-yeah, sure, Chi Chi," She answered and looked off in another direction.

Chi Chi uncrossed her legs and placed her arms on the table. "Sure what?"

Bulma stopped twiddling the pen in her hand and looked back at Chi Chi. "What?"

"Ugh! I said which tea, Bulma, which tea! The Sencha or the Gyokuro?"

"Oh! Oh, uh, the Gyokuro, definitely." Her eyes did a double-take, due to Chi Chi still staring at her stupidly. "Or... we could go with the Sencha. Doesn't really matter, they're both good."

"No, I agree with you, but what's up with you? I don't think you've heard a word I've said."

_Gee, you can tell? _Bulma thought and very badly wanted to say aloud. But she opted against it. "I've just... got a lot on my mind, that's all."

She was really trying hard to focus on the baby shower.

Trying to get her spirits up.

But her mind kept reverting back to that morning.

When she realized there was no way she could say Vegeta doesn't cheat on her.

In fact, the more she thought about it, it occurred to her that Vegeta was in heat when he left four days ago.

Whenever he was in heat, she couldn't keep him off her, unless he was training or sleeping.

Why would he leave while he was in heat?

Why would he leave while he was in heat **if he wasn't cheating on her?**

The sound of footsteps entering the room distracted Bulma from her thoughts.

She looked up to see Gohan heading to the fridge. "What's for dinner, Mom?" He asked as he opened the fridge, looking around.

"Tonight we're having miso soup with blue-fish on a bed of steamed white rice."

Gohan rubbed his stomach as it let out a roar and giggled. "Mmm, boy, my stomach sure likes the sound of that!" "Obviously," Bulma laughed.

"Well, we're done, aren't we, Bulma?" Chi Chi gathered up the clipboards and notebooks with the arrangements for the baby shower. "Yeah, everything's set."

She set the items on an end table and walked to the fridge, nudging Gohan out of the way. "Then I'll get started on dinner since Gohan's stomach is talking. My, this baby shower's going to be swell! 18 will be amazed!"

"Yeah, I'm sure she will be," Bulma mumbled, wanting Chi Chi to shut up.

Gohan sat at the table across from Bulma. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Yes, Bulma, please join us for dinner! I make a mean miso soup," She chimed in, raising her eyebrows a couple of times.

Bulma tried her best not to look annoyed. _Stop acting like you don't have the personality of a hag! _She screamed mentally. "No, I better get back before sundown. Whenever they train, Piccolo usually brings the boys back before then and I don't want them to be alone. My parents are always too busy to watch them."

Gohan nodded.

"Well, can't Vegeta watch them?" Chi Chi asked as she cleaned the fish.

"Vegeta's not home. He's in Dragon Rock."

"Oh, really? Dragon Rock isn't too far from here." Chi Chi called over her shoulder, her head in the fridge again.

Bulma's eyes actually lit up for a second. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Gohan confirmed with a puzzled look on his face. "But Vegeta's not there."

The sparkle in Bulma's eyes went dim just like that and her heart thumped.

She gulped, feeling her throat tighten, and softly asked Gohan, "What do you mean? You mean he's just not there _now_? He left? Has he been there in the last four days?"

Gohan hesitantly shook his head. "No... no, he hasn't been there in the last four days. I woulda sensed him."

She quickly looked at Chi Chi, who was still preoccupied with preparing dinner, and leaned closer to Gohan. "Where is he?" She whispered.

His thumbs began encircling as he looked down at the table, sensing out Vegeta. He closed his eyes to focus harder.

Bulma watched him, gripping at the hem of her shirt, her breath coming out shakily.

After another few seconds, Gohan looked up at her. "Feels like he's in Central City."

Bulma held her breath and she could hear her heart thumping even louder.

Gohan's tail, hanging over the chair, curled underneath it as he watched Bulma's eyes glaze over. "Bulma?" He spoke quietly.

Bulma abruptly stood up. "Gohan, can you take me home now?"

"Uhhh," He uttered as Chi Chi looked in their direction. "Oh, you're leaving so soon-" "Yes, Chi Chi, I've gotta get going. Gohan, c'mon." She said, quickly cutting Chi Chi off and walked outside.

Gohan followed. "Uh, okay, bye Mom."

"Bye!" Chi Chi called out the window as they took off.

* * *

One lamp was on, barely lighting the bedroom as Bulma paced back and forth, waiting for Piccolo and the boys to get back.

Nervously, she kept rubbing her chest, neck, and the back of her neck.

She found herself trying to suck in breaths as she tried to grasp what Gohan told her. _I can't believe this. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! VEGETA NEVER WENT TO DRAGON ROCK! Central-Central City - WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING IN CENTRAL CITY?! Oh, Kami, please, he can't be cheating on me! Not after everything I do for him! Not after all the BULLSHIT I PUT UP WITH FROM HIM! BULLSHIT THAT I'VE PUT UP WITH FOR FIVE-LONG-FUCKING-YEARS! I MEAN- I mean, would he even sleep with someone else? When he first got here, he was always saying humans were so inferior, so disgusting. It took me FOREVER to get him to come around. That made me think I'd never have to worry about him cheating on me! _But her pounding heart was now telling her otherwise._ Oooh, where are they?! They should've been back by now! _

Ten minutes of pacing later, Piccolo and the boys landed outside of Capsule Corp.

Bulma ran out of the bedroom to catch Piccolo before he flew off.

"Aw, man! I thought it was gonna be easy to learn Masenko!" Trunks whined, rubbing a scuff mark off his cheek.

"Same here," Came Goten's not-so-cheerful-voice. He was slouching, his face riddled with scuff marks.

Looking down at the two little boys, Piccolo smirked. "You both thought wrong." He said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I think you were rougher on me than Trunks today, Piccolo," Goten groaned.

Dusting off his tattered clothes, Trunks agreed. "Yeah, I think that was for riding on his shoulders."

Piccolo chuckled lightly. "You both thought right."

"Piccolo, Piccolo!" Bulma called breathlessly as she ran up to them.

The three of them looked at her.

Piccolo's smirk dropped and his brows furrowed, knowing something was wrong for her to approach him like that.

"Hey, Mom!" Trunks leapt up and hugged his mother. Bulma hugged him tightly in return, kissed his head, and looked at Piccolo as she let him down.

She briefly glanced at Goten, rubbing his head, before looking back at Piccolo. "Goten, why don't you spend the night here?" She recommended, never taking her eyes off Piccolo.

"M' Kay! I'm too bushed to fly home, anyways." "Good. Then the two of you go on up to Trunks' room and go to bed." She said, still focused on Piccolo. "Okay!" They both chirped and headed into the building.

Once the boys were inside, Piccolo finally spoke. "Is something wrong?"

Bulma rubbed her arms and walked a little closer to him. "Can you sense where Vegeta is for me?"

Piccolo's eyebrows straightened.

So that's what was wrong with her.

She wanted to know where Vegeta really was.

Having overheard their conversation four days ago, Piccolo remembered where Vegeta said he was going.

And Piccolo already knew he wasn't there.

He'd felt Vegeta's energy in three different places over the last four days; neither of them the place where he said he was going to be.

Piccolo sighed and closed his eyes, sensing Vegeta.

A few moments passed and he opened his charcoal eyes to look at a watery-eyed Bulma, still rubbing her arms.

He sighed deeply this time. "Central City."

She looked down, a tear escaping, only to be quickly caught by her finger.

She sniffled, then inhaled a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and looked up at Piccolo, whose solemn gaze hadn't shifted. "Can you take me to where he is?" She requested in a tone barely above a whisper.

Piccolo stood unmoved, studying her face.

Watching the tears welling up in her blue orbs.

Strangely, he found himself angered by them.

And he didn't understand why.

It frustrated him.

"Please. So I can-" She stopped as Piccolo held out his hand. "No need to explain."

Feeling the tears in her eyes, she tried not to blink.

She didn't want any more tears to fall unless she found a reason for them to.

She thanked him quietly and took his hand.

He gently lifted her up, let go, and caught her around her waist.

One arm draped around his back and the other around his chest, her hands met on his shoulder and held on tight.

Pressing her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and a rebellious tear fell down her cheek.

But it was blown away as Piccolo shot into the sky.

Heading towards Central City.

Heading towards Vegeta.

* * *

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	4. Bulma's Heart Is Broken

**Another thank you for the new reviews and follows!**

**Crystal Throne, I tried to get it posted quicker this time. **

**Friendly warning - this chapter is naughty ;)**

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Piccolo gradually decreased his speed as he came closer to Central City. "We're almost there," He informed the blue-haired passenger he was carrying.

Holding her so close, he could feel her body tense against his upon hearing the news.

Bulma simply nodded her head, her face rubbing against his chest as she did.

Piccolo's eyes quickly jetted down to Bulma, her face hidden by her flying blue hair, before jetting back up again.

He tried not to let the movement and the fact that her body tensed up bother him.

It shouldn't bother him.

There was no reason for it to bother him, right?

True or not, what was true was that he couldn't let it bother him.

Because if it did, Piccolo's ki was likely to rise slightly. And even a slight increase would be more than enough for Vegeta to sense him coming.

Moreover, Vegeta would find it very odd if he felt Piccolo coming to Central City.

In fact, he knew Vegeta well enough to know that not only would Vegeta find it odd, he'd know that something was very wrong. That something was very wrong **for him. **

Then, Vegeta, of course, would drop whatever or **whoever **he's doing and bolt.

So, for the last three hours, Piccolo had been flying at the fastest pace he could manage while keeping his ki lowered.

Soon though, a thought occurred to Piccolo. _If I fly into Central City, unless he's preoccupied, Vegeta could still sense me, even with my energy lowered. _

"Hmm," Piccolo hummed and came to a stop.

Bulma's feet dangled beneath her as Piccolo rotated their bodies upward and she looked up at him. "Why are you stopping? Piccolo!" Bulma softly exclaimed, surprised as they descended into the suburb below them.

Piccolo's cape undulated from the rush of air and Bulma was surprised his turban didn't fly off.

He landed on the roof of a building, his hold on Bulma's waist tightening to keep her from slipping out of his grasp.

Her eyes bouncing off the street lights as she looked around, Bulma asked, "Why'd you stop here? This is Ginger Town." "Even though I lowered my energy, Vegeta could still sense me coming if I fly into Central City," He said, scanning the rooftops of various buildings.

Bulma tried to follow his line of sight; but, her eyes instead dropped to the sidewalk where two young boys, wide-eyed and mouths agape, stared up at her and Piccolo.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha," She laughed sheepishly and tentatively waved at the boys.

Yelling suddenly, they ran into a house, one of them shouting, "MOM, MOM," when Piccolo glanced in their direction.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and Bulma felt a rumble in his chest as he growled lightly.

She patted him on the chest before placing her hand back on top of the other on Piccolo's shoulder and he looked at her. "We'd better get going before their mother comes out here. Now, please, tell me we aren't walking the rest of the way."

If Piccolo couldn't fly into Central City without tipping Vegeta off, then it sounded like they were hoofing it.

And Bulma was positive she was going to have to walk on her own two feet rather than Piccolo continuing to carry her.

Piccolo looked down at her with an amused expression. "Not yet. Hang on tight."

Bulma gasped as Piccolo jumped into the air before she even had enough time to register his words.

"Unh!" She exclaimed as Piccolo landed on another rooftop.

His foot hadn't even touched down all the way before he jumped again and landed on another rooftop.

He continued this pattern at a speedy pace and Bulma realized he was jumping towards Central City.

She smiled, grateful they wouldn't be hoofing it, after all.

But the smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared.

The smile faded away as Bulma realized they weren't too far away from Central City.

The smile faded away as Bulma remembered why they were going to Central City.

Ten or fifteen minutes of sailing along rooftops later, Piccolo stopped.

They were finally in Central City.

They both looked down at the rush of people before Piccolo jumped down into an alley; and, they walked into the crowd.

Being Friday and close to midnight, Bulma wasn't too surprised that there were a lot of people out tonight.

However, she was surprised by the group of people themselves.

Half of them were teenagers and the other half were college students.

Bulma was also surprised that they were surrounded by nightclubs.

And even though all of the nightclubs that she saw were filled, there were still hundreds of people on the streets.

It was like the party **was on the streets. **

The night sky lit up with all the glowing people.

Everyone had glow sticks and glow stick necklaces just about.

It was like they were walking through a never-ending neon rainbow.

_What THE HELL is Vegeta doing in this part of the city?! _Bulma thought. She looked up at Piccolo. "Are you sure he's in this part of town? I mean, I don't think Vegeta would go to a club. Or a party. Or around this many people," She said in a normal tone, despite the loud music from the nightclubs drowning out her words.

But Piccolo's Namekian ears heard every word as if she were speaking directly into them.

Piccolo nodded. "Around this building, he's a couple of blocks down." He made sure to raise his voice so she could hear him.

Making their way through the sea of partiers, Bulma grabbed a hold of Piccolo's gi as the crowd got thicker.

He looked down at her hand, a surprised look marking his features from the unexpected contact.

Her other hand soon gripped his gi, as well.

He looked at her, her attention focused on the crowd, scanning the people moving past them.

He started to move his left hand to her back but it faltered midway.

His eyes jetted around nervously before they focused on her again; and, his hand, still wavering behind her back, slowly clenched into a fist, dropping back to his side as he decided against it.

Sighing, he looked forward again. "WHOA, DUDE, WHAT'S UP?!"

Piccolo and Bulma both shouted and stopped in their tracks as one of the partiers jumped in front of them, his arms outstretched like he wanted a hug.

He looked like he was a twenty-something and his breath reeked of alcohol so bad, it made Bulma want to gag.

He came closer to them, a drunken stagger to match his drunken grin as he pointed at Piccolo. "HEY, AREN'T YOU- AREN'T YOU THAT GUY- THE ONE THAT TOOK KING FURRY HOSTAGE AND- AND THEN _BLEW UP _CENTRAL CITY?!" He shouted as he gestured his arms in a big circle, Bulma moving her head back to avoid being whacked.

Piccolo went from stunned to stammering to baring his fangs as he growled.

He raised his arms as if taking a fighting stance and clenched his fists, his muscles bulging as he fumed. "THAT WAS NOT ME, YOU MORON!" Piccolo bellowed. _How dare this IDIOT mistake me for HIM! _Piccolo mentally yelled, infuriated at being confused with his father.

Bulma nervously watched the exchange and tugged at Piccolo's gi. "Piccolo, calm down. He's just drunk... And stupid," She soothed, her tone dropping for emphasis on the last part as she looked at the simpleton, who was still smiling at Piccolo like he had a death wish.

Still grinning, he came closer and actually pulled at Piccolo's gi and cape. "HEY- HEY, WHEN'D YOU GET THIS NEW GETUP, HUH?! LEMME- LEMME SAY, I LIKE IT, OK, THIS ONE'S COOL! THE OTHER ONE WAS KINDA DORKY, THOUGH, BRO!"

Piccolo growled fiercely and snatched the guy up by both his hands. "GET AWAY FROM ME or you'll regret it," Piccolo warned, his tone dropping dangerously low at the end.

"YOW, HEEEY! DUDE, MELLOW OUT! I WAS JUST ADMIRING THE DUDS, IS ALL!" He whined, still shouting, which was irritating Piccolo's ears. "HEY- HEY, WAIT! BEFORE YOU PUT ME DOWN, CAN I TRY ON YOUR HAT?!"

Piccolo's eyes hooded. That was the final straw. "Do you regret it?" He asked the fool in his hands.

The guy's face twisted in confusion. "HUH?! REGRET WHAT- WAAAH-AAH-AAH-AAAAH!" He screamed as Piccolo flung him over the crowd, some of the people actually reaching up at him, probably thinking it was a party gimmick.

He flew through the air for almost half a minute before being caught safely by the throng of people.

Having made sure the guy wasn't flung to his death, Bulma turned around and looked up at Piccolo. "Well, Piccolo, I have to admit, I'm impressed you didn't lose your cool. Not totally, anyway."

She gasped when he suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her with him out of the crowd.

Firm grip on her hand, he brought her with him as he hopped a ten foot gate.

He released her hand when they landed on a manicured lawn.

Bulma looked up the white cylindrical building they now stood before.

The top of the building was sphere-shaped.

She realized it was a high-rise apartment complex. _Oh, no... Oh, no, no, no, no! _She repeated in her mind.

Her heart started thumping.

"This way," Piccolo said and motioned for her to follow him.

They walked to the side of the building, Bulma looking in windows as they did.

She saw one woman in colorful workout clothes jazzercising.

She saw four teenage girls ogling a magazine with a gorgeous blonde hunk rolling around on the floor, squealing about how dreamy he was.

And she saw a middle-aged couple reading in bed, both wearing glasses, both looking bored with the books, each other, and their lives.

Piccolo stopped and turned facing Bulma.

He slid his arm around her back and held on to her waist.

He leapt into the tree that was close to the building and sat them on a branch with a lot of brush that would shield them from view.

He nodded his head toward the building and she looked where he was motioning to, her eyes widening partially.

Peering into one of the third story windows, she saw him.

There was Vegeta.

He was in a very nicely decorated living room.

He was on the floor, doing pushups, one arm behind his back.

Bulma watched him literally do over a hundred pushups before she lost count.

After a couple more minutes, he rolled onto his back and started doing crunches.

Bulma's brows furrowed in confusion.

She didn't see anyone else around.

Why was Vegeta even there? And exercising, of all things.

Then, Vegeta suddenly stopped in the sitting position, resting his arms over his knees, and turned his head to the right.

Bulma's frown deepened before fading away altogether once she saw what caught Vegeta's attention.

An anthropomorphic cat-like woman came walking into the room and started speaking to Vegeta.

A sinking feeling began making its way into Bulma's stomach as she gave the woman a once-over.

She had fine-looking bright orange fur with yellow stripes here and there that covered every noticeable part of her body that wasn't covered by clothing except her palms and face.

She had the feet, tail, nose, ears, and golden eyes, pupils shaped like slits, just like a cat.

Her whiskers twitched as she spoke and Bulma saw a brief flash of her tiny fangs as the woman laughed.

She had not-too-sharp claws that were painted red.

Her bright orange ears moved back and forth atop her toxic green long pixie-cut hair.

Her face had an orange/peach skin tone, which blended well with her fur.

She wore a really short red sleeveless body-hugging dress that resembled a cheongsam, showing off her slender, slinky figure.

She wasn't wearing shoes. Since her feet were just like a cat's, they more than likely wouldn't fit in shoes.

She was beautiful; absolutely beautiful.

And as Bulma noticed just how beautiful the woman was, it made her stomach sink more and more.

The woman went into the dining room, which was taken up by a mini bar instead of having a dining table, and pulled out three wine glasses, filling two of them to the brim with expensive-looking wine.

With the living room and dining room being open spaced, she kept her eyes on Vegeta, her lips still moving as they continued their conversation.

Bulma shifted a little in Piccolo's hold. "I wonder what they're talking about?" She whispered, more to herself than to Piccolo.

Piccolo looked at her out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the scene playing out in front of them.

He was glad Bulma was unaware of his super-hearing ability.

If she'd known about it, she'd want to know every word that was being said between Vegeta and the woman.

But he wouldn't tell her. He didn't want to tell her.

He wouldn't be the one to break Bulma's heart.

Vegeta would.

It was **his** actions that were breaking Bulma's heart.

It was only right that Vegeta made the big reveal himself.

But, Piccolo just **hated** what Bulma was about to see.

Looking at a clock on the living room wall, the woman grabbed one of the wine glasses and brought it to Vegeta.

His tail swaying lazily, he took the offered alcoholic beverage.

The woman headed to the front door, then whirled around and raised her eyebrows like Vegeta had said something she didn't catch.

Smiling, she nodded her head peppily and left the apartment.

Vegeta drank half the contents in the glass and set it on the floor beside him.

He outstretched his right leg and laid back on the floor, his hands laced under his head.

_Ok, what THE FUCK is going on? _Bulma thought, shifting again. She was becoming very uneasy.

Sure, she hadn't caught him really doing anything, yet.

But, what was he even doing there?

How did he even know that woman?

Why would he be around her... **if he wasn't sleeping with her? **

Bulma, for the moment, humored the idea that he wasn't sleeping with her.

She was **hoping **he wasn't sleeping with her.

After all, she only saw them speaking.

And the woman had even left the apartment.

Although, Bulma really wished she could've been a fly on the wall; so she could hear exactly what they were talking about.

She even wished she could be a frog again like she briefly was on Namek.

She could've easily posed as a toad figurine and listened to every word.

Slowly shaking her head, she whispered aloud, "I don't like this," in a shaky voice.

Again, she said it to herself rather than to Piccolo.

So, Piccolo didn't look at her.

He could already hear the distress in her whisper.

He didn't want to see it in her face, too.

Then, Bulma stopped shaking her head.

Her eyes slowly widened, tears accumulating in them.

Piccolo stiffened, knowing the tears were there without even having to look; smelling them as he too watched the door to the apartment open.

The woman came back.

And she brought a friend.

The woman she brought with her was clearly a vampire.

She was smiling and her abnormally overgrown, sharp fangs flashed menacingly.

Her skin was deathly pale like all undead blood-suckers; and, her irises were blood red.

Her hair was multi-colored, her bangs yellow and the rest of it was pink. It was long, flowing down her back and stopping at her hips.

Her long nails were painted yellow and she wore a short pink form-fitting spaghetti strap dress that accented her slender, hour-glass shape with yellow platform pumps.

Obviously, the vampire liked to color-coordinate.

Bulma's heart beat wildly as she watched Vegeta raise up, grab his drink, and walk over to the women, who had their arms around each other's waist.

Even in heels, they were both shorter than him, which meant both of them were shorter than Bulma, seeing as how Vegeta is only one inch taller than Bulma.

Vegeta stopped in front of them, sipping his wine as he spoke.

The cat-woman pulled away, sliding her hand across the vampire's backside, and walked over to the mini bar.

The vampire played with her hair and laughed as she and Vegeta continued talking.

The cat-woman filled the third glass with wine and took a sip of the one she'd fixed for herself before she'd left.

She walked back over to them and handed the glass to the vampire, who tilted her head back and downed it all in one go.

She ran her tongue across her teeth when she was done and smiled.

And Piccolo **really hated **what Bulma was about to see.

The vampire tossed the glass behind her, shattering it against the front door, and kissed Vegeta, her arms wrapping around his neck and her knee rubbing up against his crotch.

Bulma would've fallen out of the tree if Piccolo weren't holding her.

Her breathing sped up, a few tears rolling down her pale cheeks. "No," She unintentionally said aloud.

Using one hand, Vegeta pushed (not hard) the vampire off him.

She landed on the couch with a surprised look, which was quickly replaced with a pout as she crossed her arms and legs.

Bulma blinked twice, confused. _He pushed her away? What? Did he... Did he not like it? _Bulma desperately questioned in her mind.

She **desperately** hoped that was the case.

She desperately **clung** to that hope. _Please, Vegeta... Please... Don't do this to me... _

As she watched Vegeta finish what was left of his wine, hand the glass to the cat-woman, and walk over to the vampire, the last little shred of hope she had was torn and ripped away.

It was ruined.

It was destroyed.

It was broken... by Vegeta.

Vegeta broke it, broke her hope for him, for their future together, for their family.

He didn't just break her hope.

He broke her trust.

He... He broke her heart.

Vegeta broke her heart.

Vegeta broke her heart because she knew why he was walking over to the vampire.

She knew now that, no, Vegeta didn't like it when the vampire kissed him.

He didn't like it because **he likes to make the first move. **

Bulma already knew what he was going to do as he stopped in front of the vampire.

Vegeta reached down, grabbing her waist, and picked her up.

The vampire's smile barely had time to form before Vegeta kissed her roughly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as Vegeta's tongue forced its way into her mouth.

The cat-woman watched the two, her tail swaying slyly as she placed the wine glasses on the bar and walked over to them.

Vegeta and the vampire separated their mouths and were now licking each other's tongues.

The cat-woman walked behind Vegeta, placing kisses all over the back of his neck as she tugged his white wife-beater up.

Vegeta reached his left arm around and grabbed a handful of the cat-woman's toxic green hair.

He stopped tonguing the vampire and turned his head, pulling the cat-woman into a wet kiss.

The vampire slid off Vegeta and pulled her tight dress over her head.

She wasn't wearing any underwear and her c-cup breasts bounced as she tossed the dress to the floor.

She sunk to her knees, rubbing her face and hands against Vegeta's erection while his black jeans were still on; then, she started undoing them.

The cat-woman and Vegeta broke their kiss momentarily, so she could finally slide his shirt up and off, then hungrily reattached their lips, kissing vigorously as her hands caressed his toned abdomen.

Vegeta's jeans hit the floor and the vampire rubbed her hands up his thighs to his pelvic bone, a smile on her face as she eyed his twitching hard-on.

"Do you want to leave?" Piccolo suddenly asked, feeling like it was becoming too much for Bulma to handle.

She was trembling uncontrollably in his hold.

Her mouth was open, forming an O, as streams of tears poured down her face.

Somehow, she heard Piccolo through her stunned disbelief and managed a reply. "N-no-no. I- I wanna see exactly wha-what he does behind my back," She answered, sniffling hard with every word.

Piccolo reluctantly nodded, a little disconcerted that she wanted to stay, and the two continued to watch.

As Vegeta and the cat-woman continued feasting on each other's mouths, the vampire glided her hand along his shaft and circled her thumb around the head, massaging it.

She then started lapping at Vegeta's urethra.

Vegeta's fists clenched and his tail thrashed between the cat-woman's legs; but, he didn't pull his mouth from hers.

She twirled her tongue around the head for a few seconds before placing her lips around the head, suckling on it.

Vegeta couldn't take the teasing any longer.

Pulling away from the cat-woman, he looked down at the vampire, grabbed her pink hair in one hand and her cheek in the other, and pulled her into him until his entire length was seated in her mouth, the head touching the back of her throat.

He pulled her head back when she started to gag, then pulled her into him again, quicker this time.

Pulling her quicker and quicker, back and forth on his member, he became fascinated with the vibrations he felt from her moans.

Still working the vampire's mouth on his member, Vegeta's fascination was attracted elsewhere when he saw the cat-woman step behind the kneeling vampire.

He looked up to see her removing her dress and ripping off her black panties.

From a couple of inches above her b-cup breasts to a couple of inches below her navel, her body was free of fur.

More of the same, flawless orange/peach skin was now presented to Vegeta.

He released the vampire and squeezed the cat-woman's breasts, taking one into his mouth before moving to the other.

The choking vampire pulled her mouth off Vegeta's erection and gasped for air, her breasts bouncing as she coughed a little.

Regaining her composure, she stood up and kissed the cat-woman.

Vegeta glanced up from the cat-woman's breasts and grinned as he watched them kiss, his tail thrashing excitedly.

The women looked surprised when they were parted as Vegeta lifted the cat-woman and walked towards the couch.

He spun her around in his arms and positioned her with her knees on the floor and her arms and face on the couch.

Vegeta dropped to his knees and the cat-woman's back arched as she gripped the cushions, a pained expression marking her features as Vegeta thrust into her.

Gripping her lashing tail in one hand and her hip in the other, he pulled his hips back and started slamming into her, using her tail to yank her back into his unrelenting thrusts.

She clawed the couch, ripping some of the stuffing out, as Vegeta took her.

Piccolo watched with a strained look on his face.

It looked so volatile.

He wondered how the anthropomorphic creature could possibly enjoy that.

Piccolo's face contorted even more when he suddenly heard sobs next to him.

Bulma's shudders were becoming intractable and he had to keep tightening his hold on her.

But she insisted on staying.

So, Piccolo returned his attention to the lascivious view before them.

The unattended vampire crawled towards them, petted the cat-woman's back, and kneeled next to Vegeta.

He captured her lips in a demanding kiss, his hips never missing a beat as he worked his flesh in and out of the cat-woman.

She snatched her mouth away, trailing kisses down his neck, then bit down hard.

Vegeta's head snapped back and he started pumping harder into the cat-woman, who clawed more stuffing out of the couch.

The vampire's throat visibly moved as she drank Vegeta's blood.

She stopped after only taking a little, not wanting him to lose any energy.

Vegeta licked her lips, tasting his own blood, and the vampire's head snapped back as Vegeta's tail had made its way between her legs and thrust into her.

An ecstatic look on her face, she wrapped her arms around Vegeta's shoulders as the furry appendage moved within her.

The look of ecstasy soon changed to a familiar pout when Vegeta's tail retracted.

He withdrew from the cat-woman and pulled the vampire's head down to his member, his head falling back as he emptied his seed into her mouth.

She graciously swallowed every drop before raising up, again petting the panting cat-woman and stroking her limp tail.

The vampire smiled when Vegeta's tail wrapped around her waist, lifting her as he stood up.

Hooking his arms under her legs, Vegeta gripped her hips and with the aid of his tail, brought her down, sheathing his member in one swift movement.

Her head snapped back and she scratched at Vegeta's shoulders as he bounced her up and down on his flesh with brute force.

The cat-woman crawled on the ruined couch, stretching out on her stomach, and watched Vegeta ruthlessly take the vampire.

"Get me outta here," Bulma suddenly whispered hoarsely.

Piccolo turned towards her. "Unh!" He uttered, taken aback when she grabbed him, her hands intensely gripping his gi and her face buried into his neck.

"Get me outta here! _Please," _She cried.

Piccolo briefly hesitated, then wrapped an arm around her back and jumped out of the tree.

He hopped on the gate and jumped on a nearby rooftop, then another and another.

Sailing along the rooftops back towards Ginger Town, Piccolo felt unnerved.

He could feel her tears running down his neck, soaking the neck of his cape.

Her body racked with sobs in his grasp and her breath was coming out shakily against his neck.

It was becoming too unfamiliar for the Namekian, so he stopped on the roof of an empty office building.

"Bulma." It felt so strange rolling off his tongue.

He realized in that instant that he'd never really said her name before.

In fact, it made him wonder if he'd ever said it before.

He tried to let her stand on her own, but had to quickly catch her as her legs buckled.

Piccolo held her in his arms, her feet dangling as her body shook, her cries turning into wails.

Piccolo anxiously and nervously looked in every direction, unsure of what to do, how to comfort her, if he even should try to comfort her.

He looked down at the passing cars, the sound of the traffic being drowned out by Bulma's heart-wrenching wails.

He stammered when Bulma wrapped her arms around his back, her nails practically digging into his skin through his gi. "Piccolo, please just- please don't move, just- please-please," She begged through sobs.

Piccolo slowly knelt down, still holding her. "Please- don't let me go!"

He looked down at her, only seeing her hair as her face remained buried in his neck, and he felt a pang of anger.

Anger at seeing her so hurt.

So broken.

Anger at Vegeta for reducing her to this unrecognizable, heartbroken, sobbing woman.

This was not the confident spitfire he was accustomed to.

He would never have guessed that this side of Bulma existed, let alone could actually be brought out.

And by the likes of Vegeta, no less.

_Vegeta,_ _you fucking bastard. _Piccolo thought angrily, looking away.

He stared into the night sky, trying to keep his anger under control.

Then, his face softened.

He looked back down at Bulma, her shoulders rising and falling as she cried, and his charcoal eyes widened with a new understanding.

A new understanding for his anger at Vegeta.

For why it bothered him seeing her like this.

For why it bothered him when he heard her cry four days ago.

For why he agreed to stay that night.

He stared at her intently, her sobs becoming quieter, her body only quivering instead of shaking uncontrollably anymore.

She was falling asleep.

He watched as she cried herself to sleep in his arms and admitted his new understanding to himself. _I- I have feelings for her..._

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**I'm already working on chapter five, I'll have it up soon :)**


	5. Bulma's Back!

**First off, can I just say the breakfast scene made me hungry. Almost drooled, seriously.**

**Secondly, thank you for all the new reviews and follows! Stoked you guys are enjoying it!**

**Now, I'm so sorry it took forever to update! I'm constantly battling writers block and procrastination. And to be honest, I got very distracted with Black Butler. Literally have been watching it almost everyday lately.**

**I know this chapter is lengthy. That's because I wanted you to feel Bulma and Piccolo falling in love. And I wanted you to feel and understand how badly Vegeta hurt Bulma.**

**Also, the scene in bold is what Bulma's visualizing and hearing, it's what she's remembering. And the words repeating in parentheses are supposed to be an echo. You know, like the flashback scenes in the movies. :) **

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Firing lasers, beeping noises, and explosions filled the living room.

Trunks and Goten sat cross-legged on the floor, rocking from side to side, thumbs mashing away at the buttons and incessantly rotating the analog sticks.

Determined to beat the other, they both had their game faces on, Goten biting his lip, one eye wide while the other was squinting and Trunks gritting his teeth, his eyes wide as his left brow twitched.

The boys audibly strained as they virtually battled one another. "You are so going down, Goten!" "Nuh-uh!" "Yeah-huh!" "Nuh-uh!" "Yeah-huh!" "No way!" "Yes way! See?" A wide, toothy grin spread Trunks' lips and Goten's hands hit the floor, the controller making a clacking sound.

Seething, Goten balled his fist, a frustrated growl escaping through his grinding teeth as Trunks snickered.

On the screen, Goten's player fell to the ground and Trunks' player was declared the winner in big red letters across the screen.

Trunks jumped up and struck a victorious pose before looking down at Goten. "In your face, loser! Told ya I'd win! Man, that's like the tenth time I beat you," Trunks gloated.

In a split second, Goten was in Trunks' face. Standing on his tippy-toes, fists balled at his sides, and his nose inches from Trunks' nose, he whined, "No fair! You've played this game more than me!"

Trunks crossed his arms, looking quite like a mini Vegeta, except with his own trademark brand of mischievousness marking his features. "Whatever. I. Still. Smoked. You."

Goten seethed even more before a confident smile drew his mouth up and he too crossed his arms. "On second thought, it's more than fair. You know, since you can't smoke me for real."

Goten's tail waved jubilantly and Trunks' tail drooped, his cocky demeanor disappearing as he grabbed a fistful of Goten's dark blue undershirt and orange gi. "I _can_ beat you!" "Oh, yeah, then how come you've never beaten me before?"

Trunks flushed with embarrassment as he tried to think up a retort. "Be-because-" "Because you can't even _keep up _with me," Goten giggled.

"Oh, yeah?! We can go anytime, anywhere," Trunks shot back, poking Goten's chest with each word.

Unfazed, Goten added some goofiness to his confident smile. "The first move's yours, Trunks. Maybe then you'll actually be," He feigned a yawn, even covering his mouth for emphasis, "Competition."

Trunks jumped back a few feet, Goten following suit, and they both went into a fighting stance as Trunks shouted, "Oh, that's _it, _you little-"

"Boys, breakfast is ready," Called a buoyant voice from the kitchen.

They both turned their attention towards the promising proclamation and smiled, instantly forgetting their vendetta.

The best friends/rivals ran side by side into the kitchen and sat at the table, Goten rubbing his hands together and licking his lips while Trunks looked everything on the table over with a huge smile.

Two plates were stacked with waffles, one stack sitting on and topped with strawberries, and the other stack fashioned the same way with blueberries.

There were three plates with eggs made three ways.

The first: two dozen sunny side up eggs with two strips of crispy bacon placed in the middle of each egg.

The second: scrambled eggs with diced ham, red and green bell peppers, and jalapeño peppers.

And third: two dozen eggs Benedict.

Another plate had ten banana and bacon stuffed French toast sandwiches topped with blackberries and raspberries.

In the center of the table, a big bowl with diced hash browns finished the morning feast.

Eager to dig in, Goten chanted, "Oh boy, Oh boy, Oh boy!"

Trunks was about to chant with Goten when heard orange juice being poured in his glass. Blue eyes looked up. "Thanks, Grandma!"

Mrs. Briefs, with her near permanent smile and eyes shut as they always seemed to be, ran a hand through his hair and piped, "Your welcome, sweetheart! Think this'll be enough for that bottomless tummy of yours, Goten?" She asked as she filled his glass with orange juice, giving his hair a tussle treatment, as well.

The little boy smiled as she rubbed his wild mane. "Yeah! Well, probably... Maybe," He answered with a puzzled expression, truly wondering if it would be enough to appease his insatiable appetite. "For a couple hours, at least," He answered honestly.

Trunks cocked an eyebrow. "A couple hours, really? Yeah, _maybe_ if all of it was for _you_. You forget that five other people have to eat. Four if my Dad's not home." He paused, his eyes circling around before focusing on Goten again. "He's not home," He added quickly, not feeling his father's energy.

"Goodness, I made enough for everyone, didn't I?" Mrs. Briefs asked as she poured orange juice in the last glass, actually concerned that she underestimated the two little demi-saiyans appetites.

Goten glanced at Trunks, who was staring him down with a stern gaze, then looked back at Mrs. Briefs, smiling. "Of course you did! I promise not to hog all the food."

Relieved, she clasped her hands together and sat at the table, her disposition returning to be as sunny as her blonde hair.

"Morning!" Greeted Dr. Briefs as he entered the kitchen, his tiny black cat, Scratch, perched on his shoulder, as usual.

He stopped just behind the boys and watched his wife point at him before motioning with her index finger towards her mouth. "Hmm? Oh, yes, yes," He mumbled, realizing she wanted him to get rid of his cigarette.

Mrs. Briefs and Bulma highly disapproved of him smoking around the boys.

He put it out in the ashtray conveniently placed on the kitchen counter, as he had ashtrays all over Capsule Corp. due to his chain-smoking.

Sitting at the table, he adjusted his large glasses and chuckled lightly. "My, my! Quite the banquet this morning! Course, when you get these two together," He said, motioning towards Trunks and Goten, "The question then is, "Will the rest of us eat"." He and his wife laughed.

Glancing at each other, the boys grinned, seemingly taking the remark as a compliment.

Instead of shame, pride was written across their faces.

Pride and hunger.

As Trunks reached for the hash browns while Goten reached for the scrambled eggs, they were both stopped by Mrs. Briefs. "Wait a minute, boys. No one eats until everyone is present," She stated, her index finger in the air as if to substantiate her point.

"Yes, where is your Mom and Dad, Trunks?" Dr. Briefs asked as he spread his napkin over his lap.

"Mmm, Dad's not here and I think Mom's still asleep," Trunks replied, just now realizing he hadn't seen his mother all morning. _Mom usually gets up early and wakes me up. Or, sometimes she lets me sleep in; but, she's always up before me. _Trunks thought, now curious as to why his mother was breaking her routine.

"Why don't you go wake her up so everyone can eat," Mrs. Briefs suggested and sipped her orange juice.

Before Trunks could get out of his chair, Goten grabbed his arm and said in a monotone voice, "Please, hurry!"

As if on cue, Goten's stomach let out a steady, realistic, animal-like growl.

Pulling his arm away, Trunks pursed his lips and jumped out of his chair. "Okay, okay," He chortled and left the kitchen.

* * *

Pink, puffy eyelids slowly opened and out stared bloodshot orbs, dimming the usually sparkling blue irises.

Moaning as she shielded her eyes from the sunlight with the back of her hand, Bulma blinked a couple of times and her irritated eyes painfully protested.

Keeping her eyes closed, she let go of the sheet she was holding in her other hand and rubbed her forehead and temples.

She sighed heavily, then went still.

The events of last night flashing through her mind. Flashing before her eyes.

The inside of her eyelids became a projector. And they played last night from the beginning for her. Beginning to end.

Over and over, she was forced to watch the horrible movie.

And the scene of the ultimate betrayal was shown so scandalously clear that it was as if she was sitting in the room with the star and his two costars.

The star. The director.

**Starring Vegeta. Directed by Vegeta.**

The driving force behind this atrocious film.

Bulma detested this movie.

And the star, the director, **the talent **of this movie, she **despised** him now.

Her blood boiled as the credits rolled, the guilty party's name appearing more than once while his costars were oddly not credited.

New tears would be rolling down her temples if she hadn't dried her eyes out crying excessively last night. But really, was Vegeta worth shedding anymore tears over?

Bulma couldn't help wondering how long he'd been cheating on her.

Even more distressing, she wondered what in her right mind made her think Vegeta wasn't cheating on her.

What, **what **made her think he wasn't capable of it?

Reflecting on the past five years, she just now came to the dreadful realization that there was **nothing **about his behavior that even **remotely** suggested that he was faithful.

But then again, why would he be faithful?

He told her how things worked on Planet Vegeta.

When he told her that, why didn't the thought ever occur to her that he intended to keep living that way?

Maybe telling her that was his warped way of saying, **"So, when I'm not here, I'll be out fucking other women. After all, it's the Saiyan way of life."**

Which means at best, and this is assuming she means anything to him at all, but at best, Vegeta considers her his mate.

But Bulma didn't want to be his mate. 'Mate' isn't a term of endearment. Other than being used for sex, 'mate' had no real meaning.

No, actually, that's not entirely true. 'Mate' did have a meaning. It meant that she and Vegeta **never had a relationship. **It meant that all this time, thinking she'd finally started a family of her own with Vegeta, was wrong. Her train of thought was completely wrong.

Whatever made her think they were a real family anyway?

Times when all three of them were together were rare. And times when he was with her or with Trunks were just as rare.

Human men spent time with their families. Even the working ones reserved time for their families. They took their families out for dinners, or to the movies, or to Dream Land. They took their families to the park, had picnics with them. They were a part of their children's lives and they loved their wives.

So, why did she ever think they were a family? Vegeta didn't understand love and didn't want to understand it. He'd told her so once. And Trunks... Trunks was practically growing up without a father.

Outside of training, Vegeta hardly saw Trunks. And since Vegeta prefers to train solo, he didn't train or spar with Trunks often.

Vegeta had never even hugged Trunks on his own. Whenever they hug, it's because Trunks jumps up and hugs him. Like any normal little boy would. And any normal father would automatically hug their son back.

But not Vegeta. He wouldn't even hug Trunks back, at first. The first time he did was only because Bulma made him. And that first time, just like every other time since, he only hugged him with one arm. Like he's afraid to hug his own son, to embrace him. Or like he just doesn't want to.

Bulma still remembered how Vegeta would look at Trunks when he was born.

He wouldn't even throw a smile, a grin, any pleasant expression towards his own son.

No, instead, Trunks got frowns, scowls, and dismissive grunts.

Bulma wondered if Trunks remembered any of that. She sure hoped he didn't.

She didn't want Trunks to think badly of Vegeta. He was his father, after all. And despite the fact that Vegeta was never around, Trunks still adored him.

She decided then that she wouldn't let Trunks figure out that anything was different between her and Vegeta. But how would she pull that off after what Vegeta has done?

Her eyes stung as tears tried to accumulate to no avail.

The thought of seeing Vegeta's face again, just being near him seemed unimaginable.

What would she do? What would she say? Should she even say anything? Should she waste her breath on Vegeta anymore?

After all, you have to hold your breath when you speak. You have to hold your breath for the person you're talking to. Why should she bother holding her breath for Vegeta? He wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth a single one.

But as tempting as not speaking to him at all sounded, it obviously wasn't an option.

He did live at Capsule Corp. The bastard shared her bed. Ate the food that she or her mother cooked. Trained in the Gravity Chamber that her father built for him. That he **instructed, demanded **her father build for him. So, she would obviously see him.

Besides, there was no way in hell Bulma would give him the satisfaction of the silent treatment. She was going to make that bastard's ears bleed, throw her voice out and bend a few aluminum bats over his head.

**No. Fucking. Way **she was going to let him get out of this easily. Not after naively thinking for five years that one day he would change; that one day he would appreciate and cherish the family he had.

Not after naively thinking for five years that she was the only woman lucky enough to be in his life.

Her lips quivered with anger. How could she have been so stupid? With all of Vegeta's 'training trips'. Why didn't she think to check up on him before?

Why didn't she ask for his help before? Piccolo's help.

Piccolo. Her mind replayed how she broke down in his arms. Remembering it surprisingly made her calm down a little. It actually made her feel a little embarrassed.

She was pretty sure the emotionally-resistant Namekian was freaked out by her disconsolate state.

Emotionally-resistant. Yes, Piccolo was emotionally-resistant.

But Piccolo was capable of emotions. He had them. He felt them.

The corners of Bulma's mouth turned up, a small smile forming as she thought of Piccolo. Thought of how Piccolo was there for her.

Thinking of Piccolo made her realize the last thing she remembered was crying in his arms.

She didn't remember him bringing her home. _I must've cried myself to sleep. Guess he brought me home, then left. _She surmised.

Sighing deeply, she grabbed the sheet she'd been holding earlier and covered herself with it as she rolled onto her side.

But the sheet only covered her shoulders down to her waist. Frowning, she pulled at the sheet, but it seemed to be stuck on something.

She was having trouble with her pillow, too. She kept moving her head back and forth on it, trying to find a good spot, but it was unmoving. Hard. Solid.

Bulma stopped pulling at the sheet, stopped moving altogether, and slowly opened her eyes.

She saw green. Green, pink, and red.

She blinked, squeezing her eyes, then focused on what she was looking at.

An arm came into focus. A green arm. With pink patches that were outlined with red rings.

Her pillow was an arm. A green arm.

Gasping, her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she rolled onto her back.

Charcoal eyes stared down at her, twinkling with amusement. "Piccolo," She whispered. _He never left? He stayed? _She blinked at him as questions swirled in her head.

A rosy tint graced her cheeks.

She looked at her hand and saw that the sheet she'd been pulling was Piccolo's cape.

Her rosy tint turned crimson as she let it go and stuttered, "Oh, um, uh, s-sorry!"

Realizing her head was still resting on Piccolo's arm, she scooted up and found herself sitting in Piccolo's lap.

Apparently, he'd sat cross-legged with his back against the headboard while Bulma slept across his legs and right arm all night.

Bulma could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks as her blush darkened.

She chanced a glance at Piccolo. And she couldn't look away.

Evidently, their intimate position was just as nerve-wrecking for him, as well.

Piccolo was blushing. A rich purple painted his cheeks. _Oh, that's right. His blood is purple. _Bulma remembered, admiring the rare view, mesmerized.

She didn't think Piccolo could blush.

Or at least, she didn't think he would allow himself to blush. Especially not in front of her. Not in front of anyone, for that matter.

Maybe he was comfortable with her. He did hold her in his arms as she cried her heart out.

Even after she fell asleep, he brought her home and instead of leaving, he stayed with her. He even let her sleep on him.

She looked him in the eyes and whispered, "Why did you stay? You didn't have to."

What looked like nervousness flashed in his eyes before quickly disappearing. "You asked me not to let you go," He whispered back.

Bulma's eyelids fluttered and so did her heart.

She'd never heard Piccolo whisper before. It still sounded deep, but without the gruffness. It sounded honest, trustworthy, protective. It was so appealing.

Maybe too appealing as she was now staring at his lips, enticed by them, waiting for them to whisper to her again.

They did whisper to her again. "Are... you alright?" _Is she... staring at my lips?_ He could swear she was staring at his lips, or maybe his blush.

While he wasn't sure what she was staring at, he **was** sure that it was making him feel self-conscious.

Her eyes rolled from his lips up to his eyes and it was there as clear as day this time looking down at her.

The nervousness that had flashed in his eyes before.

It was even written in the purple spreading beneath his cheeks.

And she could hear it in his controlled breathing.

Bulma could hardly believe it. The sight of tough guy Piccolo being nervous could only be described as sweet. Utterly sweet.

Then it dawned on her that silently staring at him was making him nervous; that **she **was making him nervous. "Oh, oh, yes, I'm fine! I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to stare- I'm sorry," She rambled, looking away, abashed. _Great, just great! First, I make him nervous, now, I'm making myself look like an idiot. He's probably more freaked out right now than he was last night. _Her eyes widened a little.

Rubbing her index finger across her bottom lip, she looked back at Piccolo and asked, "Were you... uncomfortable last night? I mean- well, I guess what I mean is do you... regret helping me?"

His Adam's apple moved up then down as he gulped. "I... I wouldn't say uncomfortable. Out of my element, yes. It was a... tense situation that I've never encountered before." He paused unintentionally.

He focused on the beautiful red that still adorned her cheeks, then returned his focus to the blue ovals looking at him. "But, no, I don't regret it in the least."

Bulma's eyes shone with uncertainty and worry. "Sooo, it didn't, I dunno, weird you out or anything? Like, you weren't thinking, "This is too awkward, I don't want to be here"?"

Piccolo would've, could've, almost smiled at that. But he consciously kept himself from doing so. "I think it's safe to say neither of us _'wanted' _to be there. Like I said, it was a tense situation; but, I couldn't let it unnerve me. How unbecoming of me that would've been." A familiar, smug smirk claimed Piccolo's lips.

Bulma's eyelids lowered playfully as if responding to Piccolo's smirk. She'd seen it many times, but she had never really paid attention to it before. It was different this time and she didn't know why.

It sent tingles down her spine and, surprisingly, to her womanhood, making her compliment the stimulating smile. _Fuck, his grin is sexy! Hmm, I wonder... _

To Piccolo, it looked as though Bulma was thinking about what he said and charcoal irises dropped, seizing the opportunity to watch the finger still running side to side across Bulma's lip. He observed the creases forming under the caress of her finger and became transfixed. He wondered how soft her lips were.

Watching her mouth so closely, his keen ears barely picked up her words. He looked up. "Huh?"

A coy, yet somewhat flirtatious expression greeted Piccolo and Bulma repeated herself. "I said, what you saw didn't corrupt you, did it? I'm sure you've never seen that before."

A dumbfounded expression complemented Piccolo's dark blush and a surprised stammer escaped his lips.

His reaction made Bulma's eyes tilt down; she didn't want him to see the delight dancing in them. _So, I was right. I knew it!_

Still looking stupefied, Piccolo hoped she couldn't hear his wild heartbeat.

He knew what she meant. Knew what **'that' **was. **Sex. 'That'** was **sex**. **She meant sex. **Bulma was saying he'd never seen sex before. Which means Bulma was really **asking **if **he **had ever **had sex before.**

Piccolo consciously regained his composure and confidence overtook his face, which looked quite odd since his blush stayed glued in place. "What makes you think I haven't seen that before?"

Bulma's index finger went still, but stayed on her lip and she blinked a few times.

The right side of Piccolo's mouth turned up as he mentally took a picture of Bulma's dainty pose. "Weren't expecting that, were you? Glad to see you're feeling better," He said, noting her rather playful mood.

She dropped her hand from her mouth and placed it at her side, on Piccolo's right knee. "I am," She uttered softly.

Piccolo swallowed again, his nervousness going haywire, but he didn't dare look away from her shimmering orbs.

She leaned back further into him and opened her mouth, but no sound came out at first.

Her eyelids fluttered closed as she tried to find the words to say.

When they opened, her cerulean ovals were still trained on his charcoal dots. "Piccolo, I... I can't even think of the words to express how much I appreciate what you did for me... Just saying "thank you" doesn't seem like enough."

She briefly looked down, bringing her hands together and twiddling her thumbs, before looking him in the eye again. "But since I can't find the right words to say, I'll just say thank you more than once... Thank you for agreeing to help me without asking why. Thank you for not being judgmental. Thank you for not freaking out," She chuckled humorlessly.

Her eyes and words pierced through to his core with a heartfelt sincerity. "Thank you... for being there for me."

Piccolo tried to remember how to breathe as Bulma reached around her side, grabbing his right hand and pulling it into both her hands, which in turn pulled his arm around her waist.

As she looked back up, Piccolo pulled his eyes away from their hands and met her gaze. "And thank you... for not letting me go."

Bulma and Piccolo's eyes swayed side to side as they looked at one another, as if reading the other's face.

Piccolo marveled Bulma's aesthetic blush.

Yet, he tried to will away the infernal blush still burning his cheeks.

They held this gaze for a few moments until Piccolo looked past her at the bedroom door.

Bulma watched the purple fade back to green, then she also looked at door.

But she couldn't hear the footsteps running up the stairs.

Piccolo lifted Bulma bridal-style and placed his left foot on the floor.

Placing his other foot on the floor, he sat Bulma back on the bed and looked down to see her still clutching his right hand.

Her puzzled expression was quickly replaced with one of anxiety as she looked back at the door, hearing the approaching footsteps.

Her heart raced, then fluttered as she felt Piccolo's lips press against her ear, whispering, "You're welcome."

His hand pulled out of her grasp and she turned to look at him, but he was already gone. He'd flown out of the window and closed it behind him before she even turned around. _Huh, smooth. _She thought complimentarily.

The door opened and before she could turn around, she felt the bed bounce.

Since the unexpected visitor was already on the bed, she turned slowly with her eyes closed, terrified that it was Vegeta.

She opened her eyes and exhaled the deep breath she'd inadvertently been holding, relieved and uplifted to see the smiling face of her son.

Trunks was on his knees, his eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Morning, Champ," She greeted as perkily as she could, though it came out sounding as if she were already having a bad day, or stressed.

"Morning," He returned, crawling towards her and sitting in her lap.

He studied her face as he asked, "What's wrong, Mom? Are you tired? And why were you staring out the window?"

Bulma's eyes widened a little. _Oh, thank Kami he didn't see Piccolo. He may only be five, but I don't think I would've been able to explain why Piccolo was in my room and why I was in his lap. _She giggled at that thought.

"Mom? Mom, are you listening to me? Mo-o-om!" He whined when she stole a peck from his lips.

"Don't even think about giving me that "I'm too old for that" crap, 'cause I got news for ya, buddy boy! I'm gonna steal kisses even when you're an adult," She promised, kissing his forehead.

The look on his face literally read 'YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME'. "Oh, Mom, you wouldn't! Do you know how embarrassing that would be?!"

His voice was so high, Bulma almost laughed. But she purposely didn't. She knew it would probably hurt his feelings. "Jeez, relax! Okay, how about this? I promise not to do it in front of anyone. Deal?" She held out her hand for a gentlemen's shake to make it official.

Trunks cupped his chin and pondered over it for a second.

He grinned and took her hand, giving it a strong shake. "Deal!"

"Ow," Bulma exclaimed, the handshake a little too strong. "Oh, sorry, Mom," He said quickly, even kissing the palm of her hand as an apology.

He then frowned and pressed his face into her palm, sniffing it. "Why is Piccolo's scent on your hands?"

Bulma's eyebrows raised and her mouth opened, but only stammering gibberish came out.

Still holding her hand, Trunks' eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, I just remembered! You talked to him outside after we came home. Did you hold his hand or something? 'Cause I can smell him on you."

Bulma was on the verge of a panic attack. "And why am I still smelling his scent? If you saw him last night, I shouldn't smell him-" "Okay, okay, okay, Trunks! Piccolo- uh- he helped me with something last night and- you hungry? C'mon, I'll fix you something to eat!" She desperately tried to change the subject. _Damn it, why do Saiyans and demi-saiyans have such a high, sensitive sense of smell?! _

"Grandma already made breakfast. She won't let me and Goten eat 'til you come downstairs." His grin returned as he dropped her hand.

Bulma mentally sighed, hoping Trunks had forgotten about Piccolo's scent. "Well, c'mon, let's go eat! Goten's probably dying of hunger!" She prodded him as they scooted off the bed.

"I can't believe Piccolo let you hold his hand. He never lets me and Goten hold his hand," Trunks mumbled as they headed downstairs.

Apparently, he hadn't forgotten about Piccolo's scent.

* * *

Other than morning greetings, Bulma didn't speak much at the table.

Since Piccolo left, the heartache came back full force and she just didn't feel like her talkative-self.

She hoped everyone would talk amongst themselves and not notice how quiet she was this morning.

However, her parents did ask why she seemed so frayed. She was able to convince them that her red eyes and disheveled appearance was from sleeping horribly the last few nights.

Good thing that even though they live in the same house, they don't see one another everyday or else they would know she was lying.

Unfortunately for Bulma, she did have to address the presence of Piccolo's scent again as Goten smelled it, too.

Thinking quickly, she dodged the question by stuffing her mouth with food. Her mouth full, she mumbled a few incomprehensible words.

Goten was too preoccupied with the food to ask again; so he simply nodded, accepting her unintelligible words and continued to eat, even though there was no way he could've understood what she said.

The mouthful certainly saved her. But possibly only so it could kill her itself seeing as how swallowing all of it was nearly choking her.

Once she finally got it all down, she noticed just how hungry she was. The last time she'd eaten was before Gohan picked her up yesterday morning.

Even considering she hadn't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours, Bulma ate a lot more than she normally does. She tried just about everything.

She had two waffles with strawberries, a sunny side up egg with two strips of bacon, some scrambled eggs, one eggs Benedict, one banana and bacon stuffed French toast sandwich, and quite a few diced hash browns.

Perhaps the emotional eating was already kicking into high gear.

When she was done gorging, she downed her orange juice and refilled her glass to the brim, letting out a loud burp without so much as an 'excuse me'.

Trunks and Goten exchanged glances and giggled while Dr. and Mrs. Briefs looked stunned.

Under normal circumstances, burping (and loudly at that) in front of anyone would mortify Bulma.

But today wasn't a normal day. Bulma was too hurt to feel any sting or prick of embarrassment.

Witnessing Vegeta's shameless infidelity firsthand demolished Bulma's foundation. And the foul act was still on repeat in Bulma's mind.

Her right foot tapped agitatedly, seething at the thought of Vegeta. _You lying, cheating, dirty SON OF A BITCH! _Her fists slammed down on the table in a blind rage as she brusquely stood up, her chair screeching along the tile floor as it was knocked back.

Four sets of shocked and bewildered eyes looked at Bulma.

Bulma took a couple of heavy breaths before snapping back to her senses.

Feeling their eyes on her, she looked around the table and stopped on Trunks. She saw confusion, maybe even some worry in his matching cerulean circles.

It made sense. He'd never seen her like this before. He shouldn't see her like this now._ I don't want him to know anything's wrong. _She quickly glanced at Goten and her parents. _I don't want Goten or Mom and Dad to know anything's wrong either. _

So she smiled and gave them the quickest lie she could think of. "I, uh, I just remembered there are some things I forgot to do for 18's baby shower. Guess that means I'm spending the day with Chi Chi."

A collective "Oh" resounded from everyone minus Goten, with Trunks adding, "Bummer."

Puzzled, Goten looked around the table and asked, "What? Why'd everybody say "Oh"?"

Trunks giggled and popped some hash browns in his mouth while Bulma and her parents exchanged awkward glances. "Inside joke, kiddo," Dr. Briefs laughed, winking at the naive boy before disappearing behind a newspaper.

"What does 'inside joke' mean," Goten asked as he gobbled down the last of the scrambled eggs.

It was Trunks who answered him this time. "It means you're the only one that doesn't know your Mom's super annoy- OW!" Trunks exclaimed as Dr. Briefs swatted him on the head with the rolled up newspaper.

Trunks didn't even feel it, but he still put on his best wounded pout and rubbed his head.

Smiling, Dr. Briefs ignored his grandson's charade and reopened the newspaper. Once his grandfather disappeared behind the newspaper, Trunks' fake pout turned into a mischievous grin and he snickered as he crossed his arms.

"Well, I'm gonna shower before I call Chi Chi. I'll take the juice with me, Mom," She said as Mrs. Briefs reached for the glass while clearing the dishes away.

Beaming as always, her mother chirped, "Okay, dear," and handed her the glass.

"You might want something stronger if you have to head down to Chi Chi's. You know where I keep my stash, sweetheart," He encouraged as he briefly looked up at her, raising his eyebrows a couple of times before sticking his nose back into the newspaper.

Normally, Bulma would find it insulting and weird when her Dad suggests she drink.

Even if it would act as a numbing agent to Chi Chi's bitchy attitude, Bulma didn't really care for alcohol.

And frankly, to Bulma, people that drink throughout the day, especially in the morning, just for the sake of drinking are drunks.

She could deal with Chi Chi on her own.

But today, she wasn't dealing with Chi Chi. She was dealing with something far worse.

Chi Chi couldn't even get under her skin.

But what Vegeta had done, it got under her skin and more. It hit every nerve. It scarred her mind. It broke her heart. It trampled over her.

So, who cared if it was ten in the morning? A drink sounded damn good. "Hmm. Thanks, Dad." "No problem, honey," He said as Bulma left the kitchen.

Entering the lab, Bulma walked over to the large, porcelain white cabinet where her Dad stored the hard liquor and punched her parents wedding anniversary in the keypad. The cabinet popped open, the doors swinging open automatically and the lights lining the inside of the cabinet switching on.

She scanned most of the bottles until she found the vodka. She pulled the glass cork out and poured it in the orange juice, only stopping when it was about to overflow.

Taking a sip, she nodded her head in appreciation. "Yep, that should do the trick."

* * *

Thick, suffocating steam danced throughout the bathroom.

In the midst of the overwhelming vapor, a foggy glass shower door cast a blurry silhouette.

A powerful stream of hot water washed over pale skin, turning pale to light pink.

Bulma silently stood in the flow of the scalding water, rubbing her arms and blankly staring down at the tiles beneath her feet.

Beads of sweat rolled down her temples from the sweltering heat. She leaned her head under the water, only closing her eyes when the hot water stung them. She turned her head from side to side, making sure to let the water rinse away the sweat from her scalp.

Leaning back, she opened her eyes and saw her own blue strands of hair, her wet bangs hanging past her eyes. Smoothing her bangs back, void orbs rolled to the half-full-glass of orange juice and vodka (yes, she brought it in the shower with her) sitting in the niche next to strawberry-scented body wash.

As she pulled the glass to her lips and sipped from it, a horrible thought entered her mind. _I'm drinking... in the shower. Who the hell drinks in the shower?! _"I feel like a _drunk," _Bulma hissed aloud as she put the now-empty-glass back in the niche, knocking over the body wash in the process. "I've never felt so low in my life! And for what?! Because of _him?!" _

She placed her right hand on the tile wall for support, her body violently trembling as more horrid things ran through her mind.

_**Vegeta kissed the vampire. Vegeta kissed the cat-woman. They undressed him... **_

_**[Vegeta]I promise I'll be back in a day or two. (Day or two)... Vegeta's flesh choked the vampire while he played with the cat-woman... **_

_**[Vegeta]Dragon Rock. (Dragon Rock) I'm going (I'm going) to Dragon Rock. (I'm going) (Going to Dragon Rock)... A kiss between the two women excited Vegeta. And he took the cat-woman away. Placing her where he wanted her... **_

_**[Gohan]But Vegeta's not there. (Not there) (Not) (Vegeta's not there)... And he entered her aggressively. Making her shred her own couch. The vampire crawled to him. He kissed her... **_

_**[Gohan]Feels like he's in Central City. (Central) (Central City)... The vampire bit him. And he liked it. He thanked her by pleasuring her with his tail... **_

_**[Piccolo]Central (Central) City. (Central City)... The furry appendage moved swiftly and rapidly before Vegeta bent the vampire down, making her swallow his seed. Finished with the cat-woman, he stood up, taking the vampire with him, and impaled her with the same merciless aggression. Then, green. A brief flash of green. **_

Piccolo was the last thing Bulma saw before she clung to him, before closing her eyes and keeping them closed until she awoke this morning.

But this time, when she opened her eyes to look away from Vegeta, she saw the tile floor of the shower. Her trembling had become so bad from her painful thoughts that she'd fallen to her hands and knees. She didn't even realize she was on the floor until she opened her eyes. She didn't feel the impact.

Tears and water fell from grieving eyes as agonized sobs escaped Bulma's shuddering lips.

Blue tresses fell forward and steadily dripped under the will and force of the punishing water pounding over Bulma's crumpled form.

The cruel irony of Bulma's entire love life, her disastrous love life, was stabbing her. She could feel its sharp, jagged jabs. She could hear its mocking laughter.

It mocked her because here she was, thirty-eight-years-old, had only been with two men since her love life began, and they both broke her heart.

Here she was, thirty-eight-years-old and had stupidly believed Vegeta was faithful to her, that he loved her and just didn't know how to show it, that he would change one day.

Here she was, thirty-eight-years-old and apparently hadn't learned a damn thing after all the shit she'd put up with for years with Yamcha. Sixteen years, to be exact.

That's how old she and Yamcha were when they met. That's how long she put up with his cheating ways. That's how long she stuck around waiting for him to change and settle down with her.

"Years," Bulma cried. "I've wasted years of my life on them!" Why? Why did she do it?

Before her love life began with Yamcha, she was in the process of jumpstarting it by finding the Dragon Balls to wish for the perfect boyfriend.

So when it first became clear that Yamcha wasn't the perfect boyfriend, why did she stay with him for sixteen years?

And what made her think anything good would come out of getting involved with Vegeta?

At the beginning, they butted heads, they didn't even get along, he aggravated her.

How did she honestly think Vegeta was capable of changing, that **she** could change him, that he would change **for her**?

Better question: why did she give Vegeta the chance to change?

After sixteen years of experience with that mistake, why did she make it again with someone like Vegeta?

She couldn't stand Vegeta when she first met him. Why did she ever let him in her bed?

Perhaps the universe pulled invisible strings, controlled her and Vegeta, and made them have sex for the sole purpose of conceiving Trunks.

After all, not only was that little tyke her world, but he'd actually helped save the world, too. Well, Future Trunks did.

Maybe it was the universe's doing, seeing as how Trunks was essentially needed for the sake of the world. If it was, Bulma definitely owed the universe big time for delivering her bundle of joy.

So no, she didn't regret getting involved with Vegeta.

And she didn't regret choosing to be with Yamcha and giving him chance after chance after chance.

Because if she had gone with her original plan and wished for the perfect boyfriend, she wouldn't have Trunks.

Bulma sniffled and sat back on her feet. She kept her head down and eyes closed as the now-warm-water still flowed on top of her.

She felt slightly better, realizing she shouldn't regret what she wouldn't want to change even if she could.

The question now was: how could she fix it? How could she fix what she'd done wrong?

She'd given her heart, body, and time to Yamcha and Vegeta.

And they both broke her heart, used her body, and wasted her time.

She gave them the best years of her life, her youth.

Her eyes snapped open. There it was.

Bulma rose to her to her feet, placing her hands against the tile wall and the shower door to steady herself. Pushing her hair back and wiping the water from her face, the corners of her mouth slowly drew up, forming a small, then big smile.

She figured out what to do. "That's it! I'll find the Dragon Balls and wish for eternal youth! That'll make up for all the years I wasted on Yamcha and Vegeta! And that'll give me plenty of time to wait for my true Mr. Right to come to me! I won't have to worry about my age anymore, because this beautiful face will never change! Hey, it'll even gimme the chance to try my hand at serial dating while I wait for Mr. Right. After being faithful to two unfaithful liars for years, I think I deserve to test the waters. Hell, I deserve to go surfing!" A small blush appeared at the thought of sleeping with other men and she cupped her face in her hands, shaking her head and squealing in a girly fashion.

She felt giddy. She felt effervescent. She felt like her old self. She felt like Bulma Briefs!

Bulma struck a silly, heroine pose, her hands placed on her hips, her left leg pointed outward, and her chest stuck out proudly as almost-cold-water rushed over her breasts and down her body. "Dragon Balls, I'm comin' for ya!"

Her chest drew inward as she snickered at herself. "Whoa," She exclaimed as she swayed, having to use the wall to steady herself again. It seems that vodka had snuck up on her and made her a tad tipsy. _Now, I just need someone to help me look for the Dragon Balls. _

Retrieving the body wash from the floor, she paused before pouring the fruity liquid in her hand.

A warm smile spread her lips. She knew exactly who to ask.

* * *

**Review, favorite, or follow :)**

**And send me some luck so I can get chapter six finished in under a month. PLEASE.**


	6. There's Something About Bulma's Eyes

**Ok, a big thank you for all the new reviews and follows!**

**TFSrules, got something better than a shower fantasy in this chapter. Vegeta's gonna get his head bit off, but not in this chapter. ;)**

**Trunksmybaby, the creator described the Namekians as hermaphrodites with physiques similar to human males and yes, technically speaking, they are asexual. But, obviously, I'm changing that or this story would lose half its fun, haha!**

**taramegareader, there will be plenty of Vegeta bashing, later in the story. This chapter's all about Piccolo and Bulma ;) And sorry to keep you waiting. :)**

**2AwEsOmE4yA, thanks for lighting a fire under my ass to push and crank this chapter out. :)**

**Now, it took me almost two months because this chapter's so freaking long! That honestly wasn't my intention. Hopefully no future chapters will be this long.**

**Regarding Trunks' tail, I love his lavender hair, so I figured why not make his tail purple too. Only his tail matches his hair. The other Saiyan descendants' tails will remain brown.**

**The scene in bold is a flashback.**

**And if you want to know how to pronounce the creature's name, go to forvo. com(Don't space it out, I put the space so it would show up) :)**

* * *

An annoyed grunt was uttered as the cat walked up the steps, hearing food smacking around in the ronin's mouth.

Looking to his right, he saw the inconsiderate boor seated in front of various prepared meals, chopsticks hard at work as he gobbled stir-fry from a ceramic bowl cupped in his palm.

As loudly as the staff rapped along the stone floor, the stubby ronin didn't notice the approaching cat until he felt the hard **whack **of a staff on his head.

He yelled out, "OW," and dropped the chopsticks, rubbing his head as looked up at the feline. "Hey! What's the big idea, Korin?!"

Whiskers twitched exasperatedly as Korin fought to stay calm and speak without raising his voice. "There's a huge mess in the kitchen. A mess that I, no doubt, will have to clean up. Not to mention, there's hardly any food left. Care to explain, Yajirobe?"

Beady eyes showed no sign of fault or care as the egoistic man picked up his chopsticks. "Big deal. I always leave a mess behind. You ever heard of a neat cooker?"

"I've heard of people who clean up behind themselves, as I have asked _you _to do. _So. Many. Times." _Korin sighed loudly and rubbed his temples, fed up with having the same conversation over and over.

Chopsticks rapidly stuffed food in Yajirobe's mouth as the ronin insensitively mumbled, "Chill out, Korin. I'm sure it won't take you that long to clean up."

Korin's brows furrowed, his easygoing disposition being overshadowed by unbridled irritation, his paws balling into shaking fists as he shouted, "HOW WOULD YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKES TO CLEAN UP?! IN ALL THE YEARS YOU'VE BEEN HERE, YOU'VE _NEVER_ CLEANED UP AROUND HERE! AND YOU ACTUALLY HAVE THE GALL TO SAY IT WON'T TAKE _ME _THAT LONG TO CLEAN UP?! YOU ARE UNBELIEVEABLE, YOU SELF-CENTERED JERK!"

Korin huffed, his small, round body contracting and expanding as he stared down Yajirobe, who was now a few feet away from the cat. The powerfully loud shouting had blown the ronin halfway across the spacious expanse.

Lying on his side, his left leg was slightly in the air and his left arm pointed straight up, ceramic bowl still in his hand, and though his right arm was pinned under him, he awkwardly still held the chopsticks.

A somewhat frightful look made his beady eyes look even smaller as he stared back at the enraged cat. "Well…. I _guess _I could _maybe_ help you clean the kitchen."

Korin went still for a few seconds before jumping in the air, screaming, "YOU _GUESS _YOU COU- YAJIROBE, YOU-! Hmm?" The cat turned around and walked towards the railing.

Yajirobe sat up and crossed his legs, breathing a sigh of relief and resumed eating the stir-fry.

Standing at the railing, Korin smiled and his head whipped up as a large figure flew past him into the clouds. "My, my," The knowing sage chuckled.

Food rolling around in his mouth, Yajirobe asked, "What's up, Korin?"

Still staring up into the sky, the cat laughed before answering. "It seems Piccolo's had some new and very different experiences lately."

Yajirobe snorted. "Oh, yeah, like what?"

Korin turned facing Yajirobe, his smile disappearing. "That's for me to know and you to find out if you learn how to read minds. Are you just about done with that stir-fry?"

A burp answered Korin before Yajirobe did. "Almost. Why?" Chopsticks went still when Yajirobe noticed the cat was standing beside him. "Because as soon as you're done, YOU'RE GOING TO CLEAN THAT KITCHEN!"

* * *

High in the sky above the bickering occupants of Korin Tower, a white cape billowed in the warm wind.

An annoyed Piccolo muttered, "Nosey old cat."

Really, shouldn't a knowledgeable sage know it's morally rude to read someone's mind without permission? And to tell someone else about it is just as rude, no matter how vague Korin was about it.

Piccolo really wished he'd thought about blocking his mind before flying past Korin.

Normally, there's nothing of great concern on Piccolo's mind, so he never had to block his thoughts from the cat.

Right now, however, there were a lot of things on his mind that he wouldn't even say aloud to himself. So knowing Korin read his mind and probably saw all the 'new and very different' things he'd been through recently bothered Piccolo.

But only slightly. And that slight bother was quickly forgotten.

The Namekian's good, yet weird mood wouldn't make room for the unimportant matter.

The way he was feeling was strange, but he welcomed these new feelings. He felt laid-back, yet lively. His insides literally felt warm, but in a good way. Warm and perhaps fuzzy, is what others would describe this feeling as.

Nagging, involuntary smiles tried to steal his lips repeatedly and his face soon itched from forcing the odd smiles into retreat.

What was with the whimsy smiles, anyway? Was there something to smile about? His thoughts? The person his thoughts centered around? The blue-haired, blue-eyed, milky-skinned woman that has seized his mind?

One persistent smile did manage to turn the left corner of his mouth up before Piccolo shook his head and forced it away like the others. "Hmm."

Arms crossed, Piccolo walked near the edge of The Lookout, circling the platform as his mind roamed. Roamed back to last night.

_**Blue locks shook from the force of sporadic, heaving sobs. **_

_**Slender fingers fisted the Namekian's purple gi. **_

_**Ragged, quick breaths and cool tears made his neck tingle. The unusual sensation sent shivers down Piccolo's spine. **_

_**He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her. A whimper vibrated against his skin as Bulma nestled her face in the crook of his neck. **_

_**Kneeling on the roof, legs astride each other's, Piccolo waited for Bulma to fall asleep. Her cries were becoming quieter. Breaths were now exhausted and drawn out. Less tears ran down green skin. The trembling gradually ceased and her body became still. **_

_**Soon, even, but still exhausted breaths signaled she'd cried herself to sleep. **_

_**Piccolo opened his eyes and charcoal dots trained on Bulma's hair. He stared for a minute, then reached for the Venetian blue strands. Long nails took extra care not to scrape pale skin as chary fingers moved the strands behind her ear. **_

_**But he still couldn't see her face. So, he very gently placed his fingers around the back of her neck and even more gently pulled her back, sliding her head along his shoulder until her face was visible. **_

_**Removing his fingers from her neck, all but his index finger curled as he tenderly caressed every part of Bulma's face exposed to him. **_

_**Her pale cheek received fond touches. **_

_**He ran his finger from the bridge to the tip of her pinkish nose. **_

_**Her arched eyebrow was smoothed by his considerate fingertip. **_

_**He traced her jaw line from her ear down to her chin, stopping there, running his finger back and forth across it. **_

_**Finally, he reached her lips. Piccolo's orbs shimmered and nervousness swam in his stomach as his finger glided from her chin to her thin, yet plush lips. **_

_**[HONK, HONK] "Uhh!" A startled Piccolo jumped as a horn blared in the street below. Looking down, he easily found the enraging semi truck responsible for disrupting his chimerical moment. If looks could kill, Piccolo's glare would surely kill the trucker for stopping his finger from reaching her lips. **_

_**He looked back at Bulma and his features relaxed. **_

_**Surprisingly, she was still fast asleep, but there was a tear sitting in the corner of her right eye. His eyes squinted at the sad liquid and he smeared the tear underneath her lower eyelid with his thumb. **_

_**Charcoal irises followed the newly wet digit as he brought it to his face, studying the substance he'd lamentably become so aquatinted with. **_

_**Experimentally, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked Bulma's saline essence. It tasted delectably salty, addictive; made him wish he'd tasted the others. **_

_**Eyes drifting shut, he sighed longingly and looked at Bulma's sleeping face. "I really do have feelings for her." He whispered so low; Bulma wouldn't have heard him even if she were awake. **_

_**Gingerly, he stood, Bulma's legs and arms dangling before he snugly wrapped his right arm around her back, his hand on the back of her head, keeping her close to his chest, then he grabbed her legs under the bend of her knees with his left hand, bringing her legs to the left side of his hip. **_

_**Piccolo smiled at how he cradled Bulma before nimbly jumping to another rooftop, heading back to Ginger Town to begin the long flight back to Capsule Corp. **_

Piccolo hummed a deep, "Mmm," his eyes circling around as he came back from his mind and took in his surroundings.

Looking up at the palm trees he now stood between, the Namekian realized he was grinning.

A groan rumbled in his throat as he shook his head again and did his best to plaster on his usual facial expression. How long had he been grinning? _Why am I acting so silly? Why am I feeling like this? _

He looked straight ahead at the blue sky. Such a familiar blue. Piccolo chuckled, whispering, "Is that why?"

Was it the blue sky? It was similar to the blue hair he'd become so fond of. It was nearly identical to the blue eyes that sparkled so beautifully.

It was her. She was why. "Bulma."

A relentless grin found his lips again, and this time, he welcomed it.

That is until a more familiar expression wiped the grin away.

A frown claimed his face as he squinted his eyes, seeing something coming towards him.

Piccolo had been so enveloped in his thoughts that he didn't sense any energies coming his way until just now.

He felt two sizeable energies. It was Trunks and Goten.

But he felt another energy with the two demi-saiyans. A ki so small, he couldn't tell who it was this far away.

As they came into view, Piccolo's frown deepened before switching to eye-popping shock. "Bulma?!"

Blue hair tossed in the wind and as they got closer to The Lookout, Bulma waved at the dumbfounded Namekian and called to him cheerfully, "Piccolo, hey!"

Piccolo expertly masked his surprise, his face relaxed and his lips offering a small smirk, though his body defiantly tingled with nervousness from head to toe.

Goten touched down first near Piccolo, greeting him with a perky wave and giggle.

Still smirking, Piccolo gave a small nod to the little boy.

"What's up, Piccolo," Trunks greeted as he hovered closer, carrying his mother on his back with odd ease considering the boy was so small.

Trunks gently let his mother down before standing next to Goten.

Smiling timidly, Bulma laced her fingers together as she shyly approached Piccolo. Funny, Piccolo could relate to her shyness. Especially since his thoughts were revolving around her just moments ago.

She stopped in front of him. "Hi."

Piccolo quietly cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was blocking his voice. "Hello." He nodded his head, uncrossed his arms, crossed them again, then uncrossed them again.

Glancing at the boys, a brief surge of embarrassment ran through the usually calm and collected warrior.

Young as they were, the big smiles and hushed snickers showed they were well aware of the overt nervousness in Bulma and Piccolo's exchange.

"Didn't catch you at a bad time, did we?" He looked back at Bulma. "Not at all."

Before giving in to his curiosity as to why the boys brought Bulma to The Lookout, he took the time to make a quick sweep of Bulma.

Starting with the fascinating blue tresses that hung just below her ears; not a single strand was out of place and not a single flyaway hair shone in the sunlight.

Eyes dropping a little lower, they glued to something he'd never in his life paid attention to.

Bulma wore an orange, short sleeve, button-up, flared hem shirt, the hem flowing just above her navel. But it wasn't her exposed abdomen that caught his eye.

It was above, where the top of the shirt fit snugly, very snugly, around her bust, accentuating Bulma's breasts.

Charcoal dots ogled a few seconds longer than they should have before being forced lower.

Blue jean shorts hugged her small frame nicely and blue, high-top sneakers with fuchsia socks finished her ensemble.

Eyes rolling back up, he noticed she was wearing a backpack, something he'd missed before as he was so taken with how wonderfully Bulma's... shirt fit.

Truly curious now, Piccolo asked, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Playing with the hem of her shirt, Bulma took a deep breath. "Well... You got any plans for the next week or so?"

Piccolo pulled a Goku move, somewhat tilting his head, inquisitiveness marking his face. "No."

Bulma's small smile widened with hope. "Great! So, here's the deal. I wanna gather the Dragon Balls. Now, the boys are coming with me. But, I thought it would be a lot safer and quicker if I had someone more... experienced to look after me- I-I mean help me." She giggled self-consciously.

A grin accompanied Piccolo's risen eyebrows. He was so flattered, it struck him speechless.

Time for the boys to join in on the campaign.

"Mom doesn't think we can protect her, so she wants you to be her bodyguard." Abashed blue ovals cut to the lavender-haired boy. "Trunks!"

"C'mon, Piccolo," Added Goten as he leapt onto Piccolo's shoulders, placing his hands on Piccolo's turban and resting his chin on his hands. "It'll be cool having you around."

Piccolo chuckled before focusing on Trunks, who was now hovering in his face. "Yeah, it'll be fun! Hey, maybe now you can teach us _Special Beam Cannon!" _Trunks imitated explosions while mimicking Piccolo's signature move before feeling his mother's hand in his lavender locks, pushing him down to the floor. "Easy there, Tiger," She said, looking at him through hooded eyes.

Blue ovals on Piccolo again, Bulma flicked her hair and placed her hands on her hips, smiling with pure confidence. "So, what do you say, Piccolo? You in?"

Piccolo cocked an eyebrow at her. "So sure I'm gonna say yes, huh?"

Bulma smiled her cutest smile. "We all know you're gonna say yes, now c'mon!" She batted her lashes at him sweetly and promised in a sing-song voice, "It'll be fuuuun."

A smile slipped through, flashing Piccolo's fangs before he consciously replaced the toothy smile with a grin.

Crossing his arms, Piccolo shook his head and caved. "Okay. I'm in."

"Awesome!" "Alright!" The boys shouted simultaneously, Goten jumping off Piccolo's shoulders to meet Trunks in the air, their hands connecting in a thunderous high-five.

Off in their own world, rambling about everything they were going to do, the demi-saiyans took no notice of the triumphant, knowing smile that met the smug, knowing smirk.

Blue ovals played with charcoal dots, irises mischievously twinkling with the knowledge that these feelings, their shy, flirty morning, whatever was going on between them would soon be out in the open and possibly even reach new heights.

* * *

"Aw, c'mon, Mom, can't I go with them?" Gohan shuffled behind his mother as she moved throughout the house, packing various things for Goten.

"Out of the question, Gohan! It could take up to two weeks locating the Dragon Balls! Two weeks with no studying?! Your mind will be a dull blank!"

A frustrated Gohan ran a hand through his short, spiky hair. "Well, what if I took some books with me?"

Chi Chi laughed sarcastically. "Oh, and I'm supposed to trust that you'll actually be studying? And not out _sparring_ or _goofing around?!" _

A deep groan left the teen. "Mom, you're _killing_ me!"

Sitting at the table, chins pressed into the palm of their hands, Trunks and Goten's eyes rolled side to side as they watched the fruitless debate.

Also watching was a very irritated Bulma. Hands patting at her hips, right foot tapping the floor, Bulma sighed dramatically. "Chi Chi, really, hasn't his life _revolved _around studying for the last _four years? _Taking a couple weeks off isn't gonna _mar _his brain! I think it'll be good for him."

Stopping dead in her tracks, Gohan nearly bumped into his mother as Chi Chi stared at Bulma with an appalled expression, as if Bulma suggesting letting Gohan be a normal teenager for once was outrageously unthinkable. "It _WILL NOT _be good for him! What's good for Gohan is exercising his _brain_, not his bulgy muscles! He is gonna be a great scholar someday and that day is _fast approaching! _And the only way he'll reach his full potential and make up for time lost on all those _ridiculous battles _is to buckle down and apply himself 'round the clock! You being a scientist, I'd think you know the importance of hard work, Bulma."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "But Gohan's such a bright kid! Enjoying his life every once in a while is not gonna interfere with _your vision of his future. _And yeah, I know the _importance of hard work," _Bulma repeated sarcastically, closing the distance between her and Chi Chi, their noses almost touching. "I know it's important to work _hard _and play _harder." _

Fuming, Chi Chi scowled at Bulma's sarcastic and satisfied smile.

Three sets of wide eyes watched the display, but the set belonging to the oldest demi-saiyan twinkled at Bulma. Twinkled with amazement and gratification. The teen had to stop himself from grinning. He was genuinely impressed and touched that Bulma would stick up for him.

Groaning, Chi Chi turned on her heels and went into Gohan and Goten's room, shouting, "Oh, whatever! Bottom line, Gohan is _my_ son and what I say goes!"

Stepping into the doorframe, she concluded with a sneer, "And he's _not GOING!" _She turned primly and proceeded to pack a stack of clothes into Goten's bag.

Rolling her eyes again, it was Bulma's turn to spin on her heels, muttering, "Stubborn, rigid bitch," as she exited the house.

A deep chuckle made Bulma jump, her head whipping to the right to see Piccolo leaning against the house, arms crossed and his left leg propped up against the wall.

Piccolo looked up at her, smirking. "Now, now. That's not nice."

Pale lips pursed as Bulma shrugged. "That _was_ putting it nicely. You'd agree if you knew my _whole_ description of her. I thought you were standing by the tree?"

"It's riddled with fire ants."

Bulma chuckled teasingly, walking closer to him. "Afraid of getting stung?"

Piccolo cocked an eyebrow at her, his eyes hooding. "No. I wouldn't feel it. But, that doesn't mean I'm gonna just stand there and let ants crawl all over me. No one would."

"Well, I like to let them crawl around in the palm of my hand," Gohan interjected as he walked out of the house. "But, you're right though, you can't feel their stings."

The teen stopped next to Bulma. "Did you really mean that?"

Bulma frowned warily, thinking, _Please, tell me he didn't hear me call his Mom a bitch._ "Mean what," She asked innocently.

Rubbing the back of his head, he clarified, "When you said I'm a bright kid, did you mean that?"

Bulma sighed mentally. Such sweet relief. "Of course I did, Gohan! You're incredibly gifted! Hey, I can even see you working at Capsule Corp. with me one of these days." She raised her eyebrows a couple of times, bringing a lighthearted laugh out of Gohan.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Gohan looked at Bulma earnestly. "Thanks for backing me up in there. I really wish I could come with you guys," He said, looking between Bulma and Piccolo.

Closing his eyes and dropping his head, Piccolo mused, "Glad I was spit from an egg and forced to grow up on my own." Gohan and Bulma laughed.

"I wish you could come, too, Gohan." Bulma looped her arm around Gohan's, her hands clutching his long sleeve as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "You could definitely use a break. Especially from your Mom." She mumbled that last bit.

Gohan just sighed. There was no arguing with that. He agreed a hundred percent.

"Now, don't forget to brush your teeth after meals, okay?" Speak of the she-devil. Nagging, of course, Chi Chi walked outside with the boys, adjusting Goten's backpack. "And please, don't ruin all your clothes!" "Okay, okay, Mom!"

Chi Chi lifted him with ease, kissing his forehead before letting him down.

She cast a stern gaze on Gohan and Bulma, only to receive an equally, if not more fierce, glare in return from the blue-haired spitfire.

Sticking her nose in the air, Chi Chi did another spin on her heels and went back into the house.

Facing Gohan, Trunks asked, "How come your Mom trains Goten and lets him go anywhere he wants, but not you?"

Gohan shrugged. "I dunno."

Opening his eyes, Piccolo looked at the sky. The sun was setting. "We'd better only travel a little further before setting up camp. The sun's going down."

The boys exchanged yawns. "Good idea. I'm kinda sleepy," Goten confessed tiredly.

Thinking of places nearby, Bulma suddenly gasped and squeezed Gohan's arm. "I know the perfect place!"

All eyes were on her. And she was smiling. "Skull Valley!"

_"Skull Valley," _The demi-saiyans repeated in unison. Gohan frowned and the boys looked terrified.

Releasing Gohan's arm, Bulma waved her hand at the three. "Relax, other than a few dinosaurs and the creepy name, it's a pretty snoozy place. We'll get plenty of rest. But, it's also a nostalgic and sentimental place; because, that's where Goku and I stayed for the night the day we met."

The frown and looks of terror were erased and replaced by enlightened smiles. "Wow, really? It'll be so cool to see the first place Dad visited on his first adventure," Expressed an excited Goten.

Gohan rubbed his little brother's head and regretfully remarked, "I guess I'll have to visit some other day."

Gohan actually felt upset now. He would love to see the place that started it all. Started all the life-shaping events of his father's life. Events that introduced his father and his self to many strong, noble, and unforgettable friends and allies. Events that were directly responsible for his and his brother's conception, their mother being one of the many people their father met.

He looked towards the house, feeling very frustrated, irritated, and pissed off with his mother, who was staring out the window at them. She wisely walked away once she saw Gohan's displeased stare.

He happily turned away as he heard Bulma rummage through her backpack. She pulled out the Dragon Radar and clicked the button. "After we rest, we'll be heading to another familiar place. Well, familiar to me anyway. Bamboo Forest."

Slipping the radar in the pocket of Trunks' hoodie, Bulma walked up to Piccolo, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Stepping away from the house, Piccolo's right arm wrapped around her, firmly grabbing her waist.

"Which way to Skull Valley, Mom?" "West."

"Bye!" "Bye, Gohan!" The boys waved before flying off.

"Have fun, guys," He shouted after them before looking back at Bulma and Piccolo. He got a sad smile and a small wave from Bulma, followed by a firm, keep-your-chin-up nod from Piccolo before the Namekian took off after the boys.

"Bye," He said quietly, knowing Piccolo could hear him and thankful Bulma couldn't. He didn't want Bulma or Goten and Trunks to know just how bad not being able to go bothered him.

Sighing heavily, the teen kicked at the grass and began a very slow walk to the river to go for a swim. He needed to cool off before going anywhere near his aggravatingly asphyxiating mother.

* * *

Heated sunlight poured in the window, warming the room and shinning on two small, sleeping figures.

Sharing a bed, the little boys looked innocently peaceful and sound, quite opposite of their usual rambunctious selves.

The bed was more than big enough for the two, yet somehow through the night, they became tangled up.

Goten's mouth was wide open, snoring raucously, his left arm hung off the side of the bed and his right leg was draped over Trunks' legs.

Trunks' right arm was draped over his face, only his mouth was visible, his lips parted. Quiet breaths barely made a sound, the sugar to his bedfellow's spicy, boisterous snores, and his left arm was lying across Goten's chest.

The covers, bunched up at the foot of the bed, had been kicked off at some point during the night.

All was still, until the door opened. Footsteps could be heard approaching the bed. Standing at the foot of the bed, taking a deep breath... "WAKEUP CALL!"

Yells and stammers were uttered breathlessly as the demi-saiyans' tails propelled them into the air, the two landing with a hard bounce that sent them crashing into each other face-first, their cheeks smashed together.

Groaning, Goten fell backwards off the bed, landing on his back with a thud on the floor while Trunks fell forward on his face, wincing as his sore cheek made contact with the bed.

Bulma covered her mouth as she giggled lightly, not wanting to add insult to injury.

Straightening up, she did her best to wipe away her smile, though she only halfway succeeded, and announced, "Breakfast is ready. Come get it while it's hot. We leave as soon as everyone's bright-eyed and literally in your cases bushytailed. Oh, I see your tail's already getting there," She commented, pointing at Trunks' bristled, purple tail.

A purple eyebrow twitched and Bulma threw her hands up. "Alright, alright! Lighten up!"

Exiting the room, she threw an amused apology over her shoulder. "Sorry for the rude awakening. But you guys are such heavy sleepers; it was the only way to get you out of bed." She snickered to herself as she walked to the fridge that was only a few feet away.

Minus the bathroom and two small bedrooms, the Capsule house was open spaced; and, it was a tad bigger and comfier than the standard ones.

Next to the fridge, there was a stove, a dishwasher, and a sink, the kitchen area.

There was a small, round white table in the center of the room with a hot breakfast waiting for the boys; Bulma had already eaten a couple slices of toast with peach jam.

To the right was the substantially sized bathroom, which was connected to Bulma's bedroom. In the bathroom, the washer and dryer were built in the far right wall next to the window, the washer above the dryer.

The boys' room was to the left and ahead, near the front door was a black, leather loveseat seated a few feet away from the sixty inch TV built in the wall next to the front door.

Bulma grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and cut around the table, heading outside to wake Piccolo and offer him the water as 'breakfast' since the Namekian doesn't eat.

She had tried hard to convince Piccolo to sleep inside with them, but the reserved Namekian insisted on sleeping outside so he could 'stay alert'.

That was the one trait she didn't like about Piccolo, how he liked to keep to himself. But she could tell that was changing, that he was opening up, thanks to the boys. She hoped she could help open him up, too.

She opened the door and stopped, taken aback to see Piccolo's flowing cape blocking the entrance. The left side of her mouth turned up as she reached up, catching the cape and restraining it as she stepped outside.

Arms and legs crossed, Piccolo hovered in the air, his head tilted forward and his eyes closed.

Spellbound ovals travelled over the quiescent Namekian, training on his sleeping face.

He looked so tranquil, and so flawless. His strong, muscular jaw line was so defined. His cheeks, his green skin looked smooth to the touch.

Just now was the first time she'd noticed his eyebrows were in fact hairless ridges.

Pointed ears beckoned her to touch them. She would have too, since Piccolo was asleep, if only he were sitting on the ground instead of floating in the air.

"Everything alright?" "Aah!" Bulma yelped, her body jerking as she jumped back a little, her hands clutching the water bottle to her chest like it would save her from some impending doom.

Green lips smirked before Piccolo opened his eyes to look at her.

An embarrassed blush appeared on Bulma's shocked face. "Were you... awake... this whole time?"

Even Piccolo's eyes smirked. "I've been awake all morning. I'm not much of a sleeper. And when I do sleep, it's not for long and it doesn't take much to wake me up, unlike Trunks and Goten."

Bashful blue eyes widened. Not only had Piccolo been awake, he'd heard everything going on in the house. _So, he's an eavesdropper. Duly noted. _Bulma thought. "Ahem, well, I- uh- I came out here to give you some water... Since you only drink water... It's cold... Refreshing." Her eyes jetted around nervously, but always found their way back to Piccolo.

He smiled warmly, uncrossing his legs and letting his feet touch the ground. He uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to her, wrapping his fingers around hers and the bottle. "Thank you," He said, looking her in the eye.

Cue the romantic music. Their eyes were dancing again. A slow dance this time.

Piccolo's hand still cupped Bulma's hand and the bottle.

Condensation now blanketed the bottle, droplets of cool water sliding down pale and green fingers, dripping to the ground.

Opposite breathing reactions could be heard. Bulma's breathing sped up, became audible, while Piccolo tried hard to control his breathing.

Their hands began to freeze and go numb, but they didn't move, neither of them willing to disrupt or call attention to whatever was going on.

They didn't need to say anything. Not right now, at least. Right now, their eyes were doing all of the work.

Charcoal dots and cerulean ovals sparkled.

The sparkle, it was the answer to what was happening between them. But she couldn't decipher his sparkle. And he couldn't decipher hers. She just knew his sparkle was meant only for her, as hers was for him.

"Mom?"

Gasping, Bulma and Piccolo jumped, their transfixing gaze finally broken as they quickly stepped back from each other, Piccolo taking the bottle with him.

Turning to look in the house, Bulma saw her nude son standing in the bathroom doorway. "Yea-yeah, sweetheart?" "Where's the shampoo?" "Oh, it's in my room, in the backpack." "'Kay," He said, walking stark naked into her room, retrieving the shampoo and walking back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. All while an oblivious Goten sat at the table, gobbling down the last of breakfast.

Bulma chuckled. Looking back at Piccolo, she asked, "Well, are you coming in or staying out here?" Piccolo grinned. "I'll wait out here for Trunks and Goten. We need to warm up before we leave."

Piccolo looked inside the house, bellowing, "TEN MINUTES!" "'Kay!" "'Kay!" Trunks called from the bathroom and Goten responded with his mouth full.

Piccolo looked back at Bulma, a look of admiration marking her features. "What can I say? I know how to handle them," He bragged, a shrug and smug smirk emphasizing his boast.

Holding the bottle up, Piccolo said, "Thanks again."

Playing with her hair, Bulma gave a soft, "You're welcome," before walking back in the house.

"Did you enjoy the view," Piccolo asked teasingly.

Bulma turned to look at him with shocked eyes.

But those eyes hooded seductively and she teased back, "Maybe."

She went into her room, making sure to put a sexy switch in her walk. Just for Piccolo.

Her oversized, magenta t-shirt showed off her shapely legs nicely and Piccolo ogled them until they disappeared from view.

He grinned, then looked confused, then looked shocked, feeling arousal for the first time in his life. Pleasurable tingles shot throughout his body, all rushing in one direction, towards the Namekian's virgin genitals.

With wide eyes, he looked at himself, at his private area, trying to understand what was going on. _What the-?!_ _I've never felt... URGES before! I feel... I actually feel it getting- IT'S GETTING HARD! _

"Piccolo?"

Piccolo stammered, surprised to look over and see Goten standing in the doorway, looking up at him with an innocent, baffled face.

"Were you meditating? What were you meditating about? How do you meditate? Do you have to focus like really hard-"

"Goten! We don't have time to play twenty questions! Are you ready to warm up?"

Unfazed by Piccolo's short fuse, the boy smiled, gesturing towards the bathroom as he said, "Nah, I'm waiting for Trunks to get out of the bathroom. Why do we need to warm up anyway?"

The tall Namekian grinned knowingly. "Trust me, you two definitely need to practice before we leave. I have a hunch that a certain someone is guarding the Dragon Ball in Bamboo Forest. And I'm sending _you two _in on your own. You'll get no assistance from me unless it takes a life-threatening turn. It's time to put you two to the test."

An overconfident Goten laughed and flexed his small muscles in a variety of bodybuilding poses, stating dauntlessly, "No problem! We can take him! Me and Trunks will have him begging for mercy!"

Piccolo cocked an eyebrow at the overzealous declaration. "Her. It's a female you'll be going up against. Let's hope you don't eat those words later. Trunks is finished," He said, motioning behind Goten at Trunks, who was now clean and clothed.

"All yours!" "And hurry, I haven't had my bubble bath yet," Bulma called from her room.

Trotting towards each other, Trunks did a forward somersault over Goten's head, landing squarely in front of Piccolo with his arms raised at his sides; and behind the gymnast, Goten saluted Piccolo before closing the bathroom door.

"Humph. I give it an eight." Trunks' arms dropped and his purple tail ruffled, standing at a one-hundred-eighty degree angle. "An eight?!"

Twisting the cap off the bottle, Piccolo groaned. "I could have given it nothing. Be thankful for the things you do get, Trunks."

Finally drinking the water, Piccolo took a long swig, chugging the water until the bottle crumpled. "Neat," Trunks complimented.

Wiping his mouth, Piccolo tossed the empty bottle in the air, ordering, "FIRE!"

The plastic bottle was gone. Vaporized by the quick-acting student the second the word left his mentor's mouth.

Trunks balled his fists at his hips, a cocky grin demanding props.

Instead, the little boy got a scoff, and an even lower score this time. "Four. Lacked showmanship. Now, c'mon, let's get started," He commanded and turned, walking away from the house and ignoring his student's wounded ego.

Right eye twitching, a wide-mouthed Trunks slumped, his head hanging low and his tail swinging limply as he trailed behind Piccolo. That was a mistake.

"OOOW-OW-AH-AAH-AH!" Smoke emanated from the slightly charred child, Trunks uttering a final, "Ouch," before falling face-first to the ground.

A deep laugh only added to the boy's pain. "I thought it was time I introduce you to my eye beams. Now, get up! Pay attention from now on and maybe I won't fry you again!"

Going into a handstand, Trunks pushed himself up into the air, landing on his feet facing Piccolo. His face read focused and determined while his body language screamed 'ready when you are'.

Piccolo smirked. "Humph. That's more like it."

* * *

Shirts, shorts, and pants were thrown to the floor as Bulma looked through the clothes strewn across the bed.

She finally decided on a white Capsule Corp. shirt with baby blue half sleeves and faded light blue jeans. A pair of white socks and black calf high boots made her outfit pop and she was now ready to tackle the day. Well, almost.

Placing her hair behind her left ear, she grabbed a black, snap hairclip off the nightstand, clipping it just above her ear to keep her hair in place.

As she walked out of her bedroom, the automatic coffee pot sitting in the middle of the round table was already fixing her cup of coffee. She wasn't waiting a minute before it beeped three times, indicating it had finished.

Taking the mug, she took a whiff of the strong java. "Mmm, espresso." Bulma cautiously sipped the hot beverage, though it still stung her lips and tongue, as she walked to the window to the right of the front door.

Leaning against her right shoulder, she took occasional sips as she watched Piccolo and the boys.

Trunks charged at Piccolo before suddenly halting, his heels digging out chucks of the ground as his momentum pushed him onward; and he fell to his knees, ducking as Goten was hurled overhead.

He looked up to see his friend crash hard into a boulder.

Dazed and moaning deliriously, Goten lay unmoving beneath the rubble.

Trunks timidly returned his focus to Piccolo. "Ahh! Oof!" Trunks was face-planted into the ground by a strong, unforgiving hand. "What did I say about paying attention?!"

A strained, "Sorry," answered the experienced warrior and he rolled his eyes, adding more pressure, pushing Trunks' face further into the ground.

Piccolo looked up when he heard a whimper come from the pile of rocks burying Goten.

He let up on Trunks, stood upright, and stepped over the child. Trunks immediately took the opportunity to roll on his back, coughing and taking deep gulps of fresh air.

Piccolo raised his right hand and shot a round of ki blasts at Goten, all of them circling the debris covering the boy. That got the demi-saiyan moving.

The debris scattered as Goten leapt up in a frenzy, his arms and legs waving blurrily as if he were making a snow angel.

Goten strategized that it would be best to put some distance between he and Piccolo, so he back-flipped and landed a few feet from Piccolo. Or more appropriately, from where Piccolo **had** been.

Wild-eyed, the frantic child twisted and turned, looking for any sign of the elusive Namekian. "Looking for me?" "Aah," Goten screamed, jerking his head to his left to find Piccolo standing next to him, his posture taunting 'I've been standing beside you for some time'. "Taking your eyes off me... was a mistake."

A swift kick and the boy was aerial, gravity soon reclaiming him with a hard landing mere inches from Trunks, who was still sprawled on the ground.

Another whimper, but this one was silenced by Piccolo's scolding voice. "Don't you _dare_ cry!"

Jumping to his feet, Goten shouted, "I can cry if I wanna, Piccolo, that hurt!"

Crossing his arms, Piccolo growled. "News flash, Goten: fighting means hitting your opponent and _getting hit by your opponent. _Being struck is never pleasant; _it's always gonna hurt! _You cannot allow yourself to cry at every instance of pain you feel. Do you think Gohan cries every time he takes a shot?!"

That managed to soak through Goten's thick skull. Being reminded of how disciplined his big brother is got the youngest demi-saiyan thinking. _Piccolo's right. Gohan never cries. _

"A true warrior," Piccolo continued, "Learns how to take pain. Once you learn how to endure pain, you can choose whether or not to feel it. Learn how to suffer through it, and you can learn how to block it mentally. A weak mind allows pain and gives it control. But a strong mind _denies_ and _controls_ pain. Always remember that, Goten."

_Very wise, Piccolo. Very wise. I'd say that was Kami talking, except Kami wasn't much of a warrior. So, that had to be all you. _Thought Bulma, still watching them from inside the house, her eyes fixed on the intuitive teacher like an obedient teacher's pet.

Outside, Goten put on a perseverant face and went into a defensive stance.

Piccolo dropped his arms to his sides, then disappeared.

Those same wild, ebony eyes searched for the quick-moving target again; but, it was too late.

"Stop relying on your eyes," Piccolo shouted with his hands placed at his mouth like a megaphone as Goten flew through the air, crashing into yet another boulder, smashing it to smithereens.

Piccolo turned and looked down at Trunks, who was looking up at him with a fearful expression. "On your feet, Trunks," He instructed, slipping his right foot under Trunks' back and kicking him into the air like a soccer ball.

Piccolo jumped up into the air and waited for Trunks' rising body to reach him, and then he kicked the young demi-saiyan in the direction of his younger, fallen friend.

Another harsh landing was awarded this time to Trunks in the heap of rocks, directly on top of Goten. The boys groaned. "Ohhh, he did that on purpose," Goten whined in a strained voice.

"Yes, I did," Piccolo confirmed, still hovering in the air, his arms still crossed. "You two are gonna get _creamed," _He grumbled.

Inside the house, Bulma chuckled and sipped the last of her coffee. _Cruel. Very cruel. Wise and cruel. Now there's a combo you don't see often. Piccolo is so... different. _

The boys flew at Piccolo and the spar resumed; but, of course the older warrior had the upper hand, so much so that his arms remained crossed and he used only his legs to block the quick, but not quick enough, strikes and kicks of the little demi-saiyans.

The Namekian fought the boys with relative ease, completely unaware of the cerulean ovals that followed his every move.

Those ovals watched how he ducked, dodged, and jumped over the boys.

Watched how he would appear in front of Goten, wait for Trunks to shoot a ki blast at him, disappear and let the blast hit Goten, and then make the boys unintentionally switch places and repeat the strategy, the young demi-saiyans none the wiser.

She paid close attention to the sagacious look on his face as he ran circles around Trunks and Goten. _He's so cunning. So strategic. I mean, I'd always known Piccolo was intelligent, but I didn't know he was exceedingly intelligent. I gotta give it to him; he's got mad skills. Wow, brains and brawn, that's always nice. _

Piccolo uncrossed his arms, his muscles now visible and working, and that smug, sexy smirk that made Bulma tingle the day before was back, making glutinous blue eyes quickly switch from teacher's pet to horny school girl.

She watched how his pink-patched biceps flexed when punching Trunks and Goten; yes, she was too preoccupied with Piccolo's rippling musculature to hear the demi-saiyans' cries of anguish.

She noticed how Piccolo's red obi fit his trim waist perfectly.

Her eyes traced his long legs as he kicked her son in the back and then kicked Goten in the stomach.

The coffee mug hung limply in the grip of Bulma's index and middle fingers as she leaned further against the wall and rubbed her arms, trying to soothe the goose bumps that had risen from excitement. _Mmm... Brains, brawn, tall, sarcastic, smug, cocky, confident... Prefers action over words. And when he does speak, his words are just as knowledgeable, to the point, and honest as his actions. _

Bulma rubbed her arms harder and squeezed her legs together as her body shivered with want.

A descrying gasp left her lips. Blue eyes widened and sparkled with mind-blowing comprehension. _I'm attracted to him. I like him._ _I-I want him... I want- _"Piccolo," She finished proclaiming out loud, breathlessly.

Green, keen, pointed ears heard his name called and Piccolo stopped advancing on the two small forms lying on the ground, breathing exhaustedly, and he turned his head in the direction of the house, looking directly at Bulma.

And her eyes got wider. _He heard me from way out there?! _

They exchanged blinks for a few seconds before Bulma nervously and kind of without thinking casually waved her hand at him, an equally nervous smile and chuckle accompanying the out of place wave.

Piccolo's left brow cocked and the left side of his mouth turned up as he surprisingly waved back nonchalantly.

Though still feeling like an idiot, it made Bulma relax when he waved back. She felt even better when Piccolo grinned.

But that grin was knocked off his face as he was knocked to the ground by a powerful kick to the chest from Trunks and Goten.

Bulma jumped and gasped, almost dropping the coffee mug in the process. "Crap, that was _my _fault wasn't it?"

Trunks and Goten landed on either side of Piccolo and high-fived before bending down to look at their fallen tormentor. "We finally gotcha, Piccolo," Trunks gloated. "Shouldn't have taken your eyes off us," Goten teased.

Piccolo stared up at their smiling faces with a deadpan look and stated in a deadpan way, "Hey, even I can get distracted sometimes."

* * *

Piccolo and Bulma stood under exorbitant palm trees, staring ahead at a vast, ominous lake.

The pitch black waters seemed unnaturally still and thwarted the afternoon sun's luminous rays.

Sunlight valiantly tried to pierce the murky surface, but proved no match for the dangerously dense jungle framing the foreboding body of water, covering the vastness with impenetrable shade.

Movement in the trees startled Bulma, making her inch closer to Piccolo. She squealed and squeezed Piccolo's arm when a pterodactyl flew out of the trees.

Her eyes returned to their normal size when she realized it was flying away from them. "Ugh, that happened the last time I was here!"

She looked up at Piccolo and her eyes hooded at the sight of his playfully mocking grin. "You better not laugh!" "I wasn't going to." Bulma groaned, hearing the amusement in his words before looking back at the lake.

It was moving. Bubbles broke its poise, creating ripples and showing signs that it was indeed a lake and not the soggy, muddy floor of the jungle.

The bubbles became bigger and more rapid, looking as if the lake was boiling, until...

"Ah! Wow, this lake is deep, Mom!" Trunks sputtered and gasped, soon joined by Goten as the little boy emerged with a huge splash as well. Coughing, Goten whined, "We couldn't find it! This water's so dark, I can barely see anything!"

Bulma grimaced. She could see what looked like dirt in Trunks' hair. The dirt, or whatever it was, was even on their faces. She muttered under her breath, "Gross."

"It's down there, so keep looking," Piccolo commanded.

The boys whined before taking deep breaths and diving back in. They weren't under too long before Trunks resurfaced. "Hey, I think there's something down here. It's weird; I didn't see it at first, but it started glowing just now."

Still holding Piccolo's arm, Bulma gave it another squeeze and smiled. "Maybe it's the Dragon Ball!"

Goten resurfaced too, a look of wonder on his face. "You guys are not gonna believe this! There's a mermaid down here! She's really pretty! And guess what else! She has the Dragon Ball! I think something's wrong with her tail though, or either she can't move, 'cause she was holding the Dragon Ball up like she wants us to come get it."

That same knowing grin from earlier twisted Piccolo's lips. "Well, go get it guys, and make sure she's okay," Bulma encouraged.

Deep breaths and the two were submerged again. The undulations subsided and oddly, an eerie calm befell the dark waters once again. Seconds began to tick by.

Bulma frowned and Piccolo went from grinning to smiling. "Let the test begin." Bulma looked at him questioningly. "Hmm? Test?"

Bubbles rushed to the surface. Underwater, screams could be heard and Bulma's eyes and Piccolo's smile widened.

The water exploded as Trunks and Goten shot into the air, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Hovering in the air above the lake, their drenched clothes dripped incessantly and their pale faces and hands trembled with terror.

Confused, Bulma shouted, "What is it?! What's wrong?!" They didn't get the chance to answer her.

Bulma vise-gripped Piccolo's arm as the lake's surface broke again, and the demi-saiyans' monstrous terror towered above them sinisterly. _"AAAAAAAHHH!" _Trunks, Goten, and Bulma screeched.

Eyes hooded, Piccolo's ears twitched, the shrill screeching making his sensitive eardrums throb. Shaking his head, Piccolo cleared his throat. "Boys, Bulma, meet Miragem Vibora!"

The creature's body twisted as she turned, looking down at Piccolo and Bulma.

Wide-eyed, Bulma squeaked and jumped behind Piccolo, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Piccolo consciously kept his nerves in check.

With a thick Brazilian accent, the creature hissed, "How do you know of my name, Green Man?"

Smirking, Piccolo chuckled. "I may be young, but I am wise beyond my years. And your name isn't the only thing I know about you."

The creature's red, forked tongue slithered out between two sharp, six inch fangs as she hissed and tilted her head, smiling devilishly. "You don't ssssayyy."

Holding his left hand up as if presenting a guest of honor, the Namekian introduced, "Miragem Vibora, or Mirage Viper, a snacamaid, the evil, fiendish, serpentine version of the angelic, playful, majestic mermaid."

Scared speechless, Bulma and the boys examined the wicked-looking creature as Piccolo impressed the beastly villainess with more facts.

Not the normal size of her mermaid counterpart, she towered at twenty-five to thirty feet tall. Her head was way above the boys and the trees while a good portion of her tail remained concealed in the lake.

"Snacamaids hail from Brazil and they are a form of basilisks. They lure unsuspecting sailors or anyone or any animal with false illusions, or mirages, portraying themselves to be innocent, harmless mermaids."

Her skin was a grayish sea blue color and her tail a sickly, dark violet blue with spiral patterns of golden scales.

"Their six inch fangs secrete a postsynaptic neurotoxin venom that paralyzes their victims so they can eat them without resistance." Bulma shuddered at that tidbit.

Her fingers were webbed, her talon-like claws painted black. Her spiky, webbed ears spread out like fins before her long, sleek, silver highlighted black hair.

"They are vain, covetous, obsessed with obtaining riches."

Her multicolored irises radiated like fire, a blazing orange, red, and blue. She apparently wore waterproof makeup, her lips and eyelids painted black.

"They are vile, malevolent, treacherous, even with their own kind. They'll strike the second you look away."

She wore a black, leather corset laced with steel chains and gold bracelets encrusted with diamonds adorned her wrists. And around her neck, a gold charm necklace, the evil version anyway. Wicked charms, daggers, guns, skulls, crossbones, fangs, and many others decorated the chain. And right in the middle, a newly acquired charm, the five star Dragon Ball.

"Miragem was captured in Brazil many years ago by an adventurer native to East City. He gave the snacamaid her very fitting name and intended to sell her to the circus. At the time, she was the size of a mermaid, and he was unaware that she hadn't matured to her full size. When she matured, she killed the entire circus troupe, ate the adventurer, slithered her way to Bamboo Forest and carved out a nice little territorial niche for herself. Did I leave anything out?"

The snacamaid creepily dipped her upper body down, sticking her head under the palm trees overlooking Piccolo and Bulma, her face inches from Piccolo's.

Bulma shrieked and grabbed Piccolo's cape, hiding her panicked face in it while Piccolo crossed his arms, a stoic look staring back at the monster.

"Not one detail wasss missssed. I am curiousss, Green Man... How do you know of my hissstory?"

Had she been in anyone else's face, the stench of her rotten breath would have made them retch their guts out. But Piccolo stood unaffected, though he did quickly turn his head to the left to get a breath of fresh air before looking back at her. "If you really must know, how about we make a deal. I'll tell you how I know about you if those two kids up there aren't able to take that from you," He bargained, motioning towards the Dragon Ball.

Her long tongue snaked out again as she hissed warningly. "I _knew_ you came for thisss. The orb isss _mine!" _

"Then keep them from taking it from you. If you do, I'll tell you how I came to be a well-informed admirer of yours." Bulma raised her head, though making sure to keep her face hidden. _Piccolo knows how to sweet talk?_

Miragem's tail swayed, making her rock up and down in Piccolo's face. "Admirer," She repeated like a naive girl being taken advantage of by a smooth talker.

Slithering upright, she eclipsed the demi-saiyans. Looking between the petrified children and Piccolo, a smile drew on her face as she pondered the proposition. Burning eyes on Piccolo, she hissed, "I acccept. And when I succceed, not only will you impart your knowledge, you will ssstay with me and be my companion. Agreed, Green Man?" "Agreed," Piccolo promptly promised.

The deal made, the water erupted and something shiny struck at Trunks and Goten, the two diving to the side with wild eyes.

Miragem laughed evilly as she pulled her tail back, Trunks and Goten's line of sight following the scaly weapon in stunned disbelief.

The tip of her tail was armored with a sharp, gold spike, which struck again, this time at Trunks. Trunks ducked, only to be bashed in the head by the extremely heavy appendage, plunging him to the lake with a splattering belly flop.

Goten watched Trunks sink below the surface, then yelped as he was crushed in the punishing grip of the snacamaid.

Goten struggled as her hands tightened around his small body. Miragem sadistically squeezed harder. "Ha-ha-ha-ha- AAH!" Yelling, she released Goten and tried to shield herself from a barrage of ki blasts.

Water sprayed in the air as Trunks swooped around Miragem, niftily dodging her lashing arms and tail as he blasted her.

Focused on Trunks, Miragem cried out as she took a knee to the nose, followed by a heel kick to the chin from Goten.

Outrage contorted Miragem's face and she roared, her tail coiling around Goten and snatching Trunks from overhead, knotting around the two with bone-crushing force. _"YOU DARE SSSSTRIKE A LADY?!" _

Straining and groaning, Trunks answered Miragem's requisition, though it was directed at Goten. "You're not a lady! You're some overgrown snake monster thing. You probably stole your "lady" half!"

Blood poured from the broken nose of the humiliated and heinously insulted snacamaid. _"INSSSOLENT HEATHENSSS!" _

Her tail whipped to the right before slamming the boys into the lake. A trail of bubbles followed them, their bodies stopping just before hitting the floor of the lake.

Miragem's tail smacked the surface and randomly darted in and out of the water, challenging them to come out.

_**That tail's gonna have to go if you want to end this anytime soon. **_Piccolo telepathically advised Trunks and Goten.

_**No problem./You got it. **_Trunks and Goten responded, bubbles encompassing them as they shot up, bursting out of the water past Miragem's thrashing tail.

They flew high enough from Miragem so they could carry out the painstakingly cardinal factor needed to be rid of the snacamaid's troublesome tail.

Serious faces, fists raised at their sides, they shifted into stances similar to pitchers throwing baseballs and...

"Rock!" "Paper! Ha-ha, paper covers rock!" "Oh, crud. Why am I always the decoy," Trunks whined.

Trunks looked down at the seething Miragem, her tail swishing angrily in the water.

Goten patted him on the back. "Make her stick her tail out, I'll chop it off, and then you grab the Dragon Ball." Trunks nodded. "Got it."

Game face on, Trunks flew at her and blasted her broken nose, earning a shrill swear as her lethal tail swiped at him with a vengeance.

Easily avoiding the maddened appendage, Trunks pushed his pants down and mooned Miragem, taunting, "You couldn't hit a bull's-eye at point-blank range, lady!" Miragem gasped as he blew a raspberry at her, further insulting her.

Trunks yanked his pants up and flew out of the range of Miragem's hell-bent tail as it struck at him; and he smiled, his taunt fulfilling its purpose.

_"AAAAAHH!" _A bloodcurdling howl stabbed the ears of those in the vicinity as five feet of Miragem's tail was lopped off by a disgusted Goten, whose right hand was covered with dark maroon blood.

"I'll take that!" Trunks swooped in, ripping the Dragon Ball off her charm necklace.

Miragem, now between twenty-five and fifteen feet long, screamed in agony as she sunk into the lake.

Sunlight gleamed off the severed spike-tipped extremity as it plummeted, demolishing the forest trees on contact and crash-landing next to Piccolo and Bulma.

It didn't seem to get the memo that it was on its own now as it wiggled violently, the spike almost hitting Piccolo and Bulma with chilling precision.

Piccolo caught it with his left hand before it could reach them, but that was too late as far as Bulma's fragile nerves were concerned. "THAT'S IT! I'M _OUTTA HERE!" _

Still holding the wriggling tail, Piccolo watched the trail of dust left in Bulma's wake as she hightailed it to her red motorbike. More dust ensued as she zoomed away as fast as the bike would go.

Looking surprised, Piccolo chuckled and faced the lake, tossing the snacamaid's primary weapon in the water.

He looked up at the boys and ordered, "Finish this!"

They nodded and both moved to the edges of the lake, Trunks taking the far left while Goten took the far right. Time to get serious.

Trunks dropped the Dragon Ball in the pocket of his hoodie and brought his arms to the side of his torso, golden auras emanating from his hands as ki gathered.

Goten cupped his hands together and brought them to his side, his ki gathering into a white ball between his hands.

Cerulean and ebony eyes fixed on the lake, their energies charged as they waited.

A bird flew by and cawed.

**Slow motion. **The water boiled. Black claws. Webbed fingers. Dull black tresses. Incensed burning eyes. An open, shrieking mouth, water pouring out. A twisted, hellish, haunting face. Emerged nightmarishly. The snacamaid's only remaining weapons, her hands, lunging blindly. **Play. **

"Double Buster!" "Kamekameha!"

Trunks extended his arms toward Miragem, firing a golden energy wave while Goten used his family's traditional technique and did his best to aim correctly.

He aimed for her head, same as Trunks; but instead, it hit her stomach.

Trunks' blast hit its target, popping her head like a pimple and it continued down her neck and torso, meeting Goten's blast and disaster. Revolting disaster.

The snacamaid's body exploded. Dark maroon blood, flesh, and scales flew into the lake and forest.

The sickening part? Most of it coated Trunks, Goten, and Piccolo.

Trunks and Goten slowly opened their eyes, looked at themselves, and screamed synchronously, "EWWW, GROSS!"

Sitting on her bike in the distance, Bulma cringed and shuddered. "Uber gross! I scrammed just in time!"

The whimpering boys landed next to Piccolo. The Namekian wiped blood off his face and irked eyes burned into the demi-saiyans, who wisely kept their heads down. Piccolo sighed heavily and mused, "So ends the life of the repulsive snacamaid, Miragem Vibora."

* * *

"Ewww, sick!""Yuck! So gross! Soooo gross!" Trunks and Goten sat back-to-back in the bathtub, scrubbing themselves red with scalding hot water while their tails abolished the grime on their backs with loofahs.

Trying to wash the foul gunk out of his hair, Goten whined, "Aww, this stuff's stuck in my hair!" "Mine, too!" Trunks' hands moved furiously through his soapy lavender locks, bits of scales dropping in the water.

In the corner of the bathroom, the washer whirred as Bulma threw their dirty clothes in.

She squealed and ran to the sink, washing her hands vehemently when a thought occurred to her. _Piccolo! He doesn't even have any clean clothes to change into! I'd better wash his clothes too! _

She quickly dried her hands and left the bathroom. "I'll be back, guys!"

Bulma walked through the wooded area, moving branches out of the way as she went.

She followed the sound of the river, walking quicker and more confidently as the rushing water became louder.

Bulma soon came to the river that split the forest in half.

The forest floor was just above the indigo rapids and the tall oak trees rustled in the wind.

It was like looking at a postcard; such a beautiful change from that filthy lake bordered with an overgrown jungle.

As she took in the scenery, she realized Piccolo was nowhere in sight.

So she walked down a little further and stopped upon seeing Piccolo's discarded clothes on a boulder near the river.

Her eyes immediately jetted to the river, and then she frowned. She still didn't see him. _Where is he? _

She stepped behind some shrubbery, getting closer to the river. She scanned the flowing stream, the current looking foamy in its haste.

Then, her eyes locked on to something. Something swimming just under the sudsy surface. Something... green.

Her eyes widened. It was Piccolo.

Giggles got stuck in Bulma's throat and the smile of an eager teenage girl spying on the boyfriend she'd yet to see naked appeared on her lips as she watched Piccolo's body skim the river.

He freestyled, his arms smoothly alternating as his legs flutter kicked, small splashes trailing his feet.

The tips of his pointed ears were visible and every time he turned his head to the left to take a breath (which, luckily for Bulma, was in her direction), she'd catch a quick glimpse of Piccolo's antennas.

A high-pitched giggle found its way out when Bulma's eyes found Piccolo's muscled posterior.

Her head slowly turned to the left as she watched him and to her horror, he was swimming too far away.

She decided to trail him behind the trees, but only took a few steps when he tumble turned in the water, heading back her way.

She squeaked and jumped back behind the shrubbery, even crouching down to make sure he didn't spot her. She moved the obscuring shrubs apart, getting a good view of Piccolo.

He switched from freestyling to breaststrokes, his arms fluently swinging out wide before quickly extending forward as his legs frog kicked underwater, leaving no splashes behind.

He kept his head above the water this time and Bulma stared at his antennas, fascinated. She didn't get to see them often since she seldom saw Piccolo without his turban. _They're so cute! I wonder what they feel like? _

Bulma smiled at her thoughts, then jumped, covering her mouth to halt the squeal acting on reflex, the water loudly splashing around Piccolo as he suddenly jumped up, landing only a few feet away from Bulma.

Eyes expanded, she cautiously turned her body to the right, making sure to stay hidden.

She got down on her hands and knees, peeking at him through the herbs under the shrubs, and the startlement she felt was forgotten.

Before her privileged, enraptured eyes, Piccolo proudly stood in all his bare-assed glory.

Blue ovals caressed every detail of the Namekian's body.

His back to her, water trickled down his body, his skin glistening.

His long, muscular legs had pink patches on both sides of his thighs and calves. The grooves on his legs travelled all the way up, stopping just under the mounds of muscle.

The grooves traced his back as well, stopping under the red ring that outlined his torso under his shoulder blades and pectoral muscles.

Above that ring, his skin was smooth and Bulma imagined her hands there, her nails raking along his skin as she lay beneath him.

Piccolo turned, his body twisting as he stretched his right arm across his body, and Bulma could feel her tingling womanhood moisten.

A jolt of desire struck within her as she honed in on Piccolo's crotch.

He had no pubic hair, which Bulma didn't find shocking. What she did find shocking, however, was that even soft, his organ looked huge.

It excited and scared Bulma. She found herself wondering how big it was when erect and if sex with Piccolo would hurt.

His scrotum was taut and leveled, and Bulma envisioned herself cupping Piccolo's perfect, hairless nads.

She managed to pull her eyes away, rolling them up to Piccolo's face.

He was looking at the sky, but his eyes were closed. It was as if he was trying to soak up the remaining heat of the setting sun.

She got lost in her gaze. She got lost in him.

Piccolo. His presence, his ego, his vibe, the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he moved, everything he did in Bulma's eyes was the epitome of a masculine, manly man. Of a warrior. Of a protector.

She could feel safe in his arms. He could and would protect her.

She could trust him. He was there for her, no questions asked.

She loved it. She loved who he was. She loved how he made her feel. And what she felt for him... Could it be... Is it... It is, isn't it? Yes, it is. She was positive. She could say it now. She could say it. _I'm... I'm falling in love with him. _

Love. That's what sparkled in her eyes earlier. That's what sparkled in her eyes now.

A whisper, almost inaudible, left her lips. "Piccolo."

His eyes snapped open and his head whipped down, stunned charcoal dots staring straight at equally stunned cerulean ovals.

They both stiffened, a deep purple blush lighting up his green face while a deep crimson blush lit up her pale face.

Neither he nor she dared to breathe. _HE- HE HEARD ME?! AGAIN?! HOW DID HE HEAR ME?! _

The Namekian was so shocked that he was left stupefied. Not once did it cross his mind to at least cover the twig and berries.

In fact, he didn't move at all. His wide eyes couldn't even remember how to blink.

But the mortifying embarrassment pulsing through Bulma's body bellowed for a roll call with her motor functions and though it took a minute, they all reported.

She shakily rose to her feet, her eyes jetting around nervously and quivering lips parted, stuttered stammering coming out timorously. "I-I-I-I- uh- I- I'm sorry- I- I came to- uh- I was- I was gonna wash your- um- clothes and- uh- sorry! I'm so sorry!" She turned and bolted even quicker than she had earlier.

Piccolo was left standing there alone, dumbfounded. Mouth agape. Wide eyes just now starting to blink. Those blinking eyes staring in the direction Bulma had run before staring where Bulma had been hiding. _How long was she there?! And why did she call my name? _

* * *

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